


When I Was Your Man

by n_nami



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M, Romance, boys-as-actors, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:30:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 29,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n_nami/pseuds/n_nami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After eight seasons of Supernatural, the writers finally decide to openly have Dean and Castiel fall in love. The only problem? Jensen and Misha fell apart when Misha left for most of season 7, and they had a hard time fixing their friendship ever since. Now it's not only having to deal with character bleed – because Jensen starts to understand where Dean is coming from – but also with the fallout of their failed friends with benefits arrangement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Was Your Man

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [deancasbigbang](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/) 2013.  
> This story is crossposted on Livejournal: you'll find [my fic masterpost here](http://namichan89.livejournal.com/31170.html) and my artist [labluekatt1721](http://labluekatt1721.livejournal.com/)'s [art masterpost here](http://labluekatt1721.livejournal.com/6619.html). 
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the idea for this story. Now I can't say the things mentioned in this fic aren't real, because they have happened and they inspired me to write this story. You'll find quotes, YouTube-videos, interviews and panels linked into this story. A few of them contain speculations that are definitely not reality, but they also contain facts that are true. I know that Misha and Jensen are happily married with kids, but this is fanfiction, so.

****

**\--- NOW ---**

Jensen has that infuriating ability to catch Misha off guard at moments where he expects it the least.

[Exhibit A](http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detailpage&v=XN-pFjTjKtY&t=38): Comic-Con 2012, the press room. Walking up behind Misha, leaning into him, stroking his cheek, and leaving him speechless for a hot second. And here he always thought 'that face stroking thing they did' was  
only meant for when he wanted to make Jensen flub his lines.

[Exhibit B](http://supermishamiga.tumblr.com/post/57428866982/um-is-that-jibcon-post-with-the-hidden-camera-thing): [JIBcon 2013](http://madinaaa15.tumblr.com/post/50635345568/i-was-at-jib4-now-i-understood-cockles-is-real), the autograph line, ten minutes ago. Comic-Con all over again, except with double the PDA – Jensen wrapped his arms around his shoulders and buried his nose in his hair. Misha could even feel his smile against his scalp and had leaned into the touch instinctively, deprived of these intimate moments for too long. So yeah, he forgot momentarily that they were in a public place.

God, he needs a break. The mess in his guts is making him nervous, and that's not a good thing to be feeling before his panel in a few minutes.

And all of it because of Jensen. Always because of Jensen.

They both know they can't let the mistakes of the past happen again, but it's not like that stopped Jensen before.

“Hey,” a familiar voice greets Misha as soon as he rounds the corner on his way to his room.

Misha's eyes travel all the way up the figure in front of him until he finds deep green eyes. “Jensen,” he smiles, a bit stiffly, and swallows around the lump in his throat. Speak of the devil.

His friend returns the awkward smile. “Can you come in for a second?” He points over his shoulder, towards his own room. “I need to talk to you.”

Wordlessly, Misha nods and follows Jensen inside, then closes the door to lean against it.

“Sorry if I was a bit too straightforward back there,” Jensen sighs, fixing Misha with an apologetic smile.

“Don't worry. Filming isn't allowed in there, so no compromising footage on the internet,” Misha makes himself say, very aware that Jensen is usually the reserved one. He knows he's being passive aggressive about this, but he can't help it. “Just the usual gossip. I think you almost gave that girl in the front row a heart attack.”

Jensen takes a long look at him, sadness in his eyes as he huffs.

But there's something more hovering in the air between them again, which they’ve been able to ignore for a while now. For the entirety of the last season, to be exact. It's been boiling under the surface, has carefully been kept under wraps so it doesn't mess with them. However, for some unknown reason, it has broken through, and now that it's flowing freely between them, the force of it is unstoppable.

Thick, almost palpable sexual tension.

Misha can see it in Jensen's eyes, can feel his own body betraying him and reacting to the familiar attraction towards the man in front of him. Jensen clears his throat and licks his lips before he speaks, his full bottom lip shining rosy with spit, and Misha remembers all too well what those lips feel like on his.

“So I've been thinking,” Jensen begins out of the blue, standing up a bit straighter.

 _Steeling himself,_ Misha realizes. In an attempt to not let the situation get out of hand, he smothers the mess of confusing feelings in his chest and smiles encouragingly at his friend. “About?” he prompts.

“The obvious, I guess - you, me, _this_... It's just that, keeping my hands to myself is getting harder, you know,” Jensen explains in a rush before he looks at Misha with a smirk, one edge of his full lips quirking upwards in that cheeky way of his. “It's kind of a problem.”

“I'm aware,” Misha replies, amused as he holds Jensen's gaze.

“I know we don't talk about it, but I gotta be honest here. I'm at my breaking point,” Jensen confesses.

Misha just watches him, the way he stands there all tall and confident and sexy and knowing it very well. For a moment, Misha lets his thoughts drift. How it would feel to slam Jensen against the wall right now, ravish him, without a question. The way Jensen looks now, he would be completely on board with that plan. And good God, Misha would be, too.

“So I thought maybe we could just get this out of our systems or something,” Jensen continues and shrugs like it's no big deal, but Misha has always seen right through his pretenses. “If you, you know... If it's the same on your side.”

“For the record, I don't think it's a good idea,” Misha objects, then does a double take, mulling it over in his head. “... then again, what were you suggesting exactly?”

Jensen clears his throat and shuffles his feet. It's kind of adorable. Plus, hot. “Well, I could go for a blowjob right now,” Jensen states, eyes flicking from Misha's eyes to his nose and lips, then back to his eyes, forcibly holding there with a hungry expression. Wanting, needing, demanding.

Misha feels a spike of arousal wash through him, and his dick takes immediate interest. _Deep breath_ , he tells himself. _Calm down._

“You mean...” Misha trails off, lets the sentence remain unfinished to prompt Jensen. Not like he couldn't go for a blowjob right now, too, but he stalls for time. He needs to think about this, and Jensen doesn't make it easy.

“Let me suck you off,” Jensen says in a tone that's more Dean than is good for Misha's libido.

His pants are getting a bit tight, but Misha doesn't break eye contact with Jensen as his eyelids drop half closed. He needs to focus, he needs control, and yet it's slipping through his fingers when it comes to Jensen. Always has, always will, it seems.

“No strings attached, just so I get my head clear and not think about doing it on stage in front of too many fans later,” Jensen adds on the exhale.

After the tension of the past few days and weeks, after cuddling up in public and exchanging obviously heated glances in front of fans and co-stars, it doesn't take much for Misha to break. The image of that pair of lips around his cock alone is what convinces him that this is somehow a good idea. Which it isn't. But the guy knows what he's doing, especially when it comes to Misha's dick.

“Yeah... yeah, let's-” is what Misha manages as Jensen starts to approach with a leer on his lips and a dark promise in his eyes. He reaches for Misha's belt buckle, undoes it with quick, practiced moves. He's so close that Misha can feel the heat radiating from his body, his lips only inches away from his own, taunting him. Misha adds hastily, “We don't have much time. My panel is in- right about now.”

“Don't worry,” is what Jensen answers. He winks confidently, which effectively makes Misha's legs shaky with anticipation.

Jensen drops smoothly to his knees in front of him and takes Misha's half-open jeans down with him. The look in his eyes is devouring when he focuses on Misha's hard dick bouncing in front of his lips. Misha knows the feeling all too well, but every thought is lost as soon as Jensen swallows him down in one go.

The tight, wet heat of Jensen's mouth is familiar, the suction all too perfect. Promptly, Misha's heart rate jumps up to a quicker pace, his stomach decides to do somersaults, and he sways a bit on his feet. The last time he had this had been years ago, so the first few moments are a bit overwhelming.

Misha's train of thought gets derailed quickly by Jensen's skilled tongue wrapping around the head of his cock, circling and teasing it, before his full lips capture the sensitive gland. He nibbles lightly at it, licks over the frenulum, and when Misha groans in frustration, Jensen looks up with those way too green eyes.

Misha is breathless and in heaven.

God, he has wanted this for too long now. He can manage staring into Dean's eyes when he is Castiel – well, barely, but he can – but working with Jensen off-stage or at conventions? Pure and utter torture.

It's been 'looking only' for way too long, and convention season has clearly taken its toll on both of them.

Because Misha wants to touch and have him and yet he can't, because it's shit like this that brought them to this point of uncomfortability in the first place. So why is he doing this right now? Right. Getting it out of their system.

Jesus, the guy just has him wrapped around his finger, doesn’t he?

Then again, the look in Jensen's eyes shows how very obviously mutual that is.

Jensen takes him fully down his throat, then, his freckled nose bumping into Misha's trimmed pubic hair, and moans around his dick. Answering with a shallow roll of his hips, Misha gently squeezes his hand into Jensen's neck, holds him in this position. His thumb and index finger run through the shorter hair on the back of Jensen's head, and _fuck_ , the way Jensen swallows around his cock is almost enough to send him over the edge. He lets his hand trail upwards and kneads it into Jensen's hair.

“Fuck, love your hair like this,” Misha groans breathlessly. “Love to have something to hold on to.”

Jensen looks up at him, his eyes shining with mischief as he grins around Misha's dick in his mouth. With one hand on Misha's hip, Jensen steadies himself before reaching for Misha's balls with the other, rolling them through his fingers.

Damn, the guy just knows every single one of Misha's buttons and it's just not fair.

Misha gasps for air as he feels his climax building in his belly. “Keep that up and I'm gonna come,” he warns on a moan.

Jensen nods, with his perfect, sinful lips wrapped around Misha's cock and his nose still nudging at the base, and looks at him with big, sparkling eyes. He gives an extra-hard suck down the length of Misha's dick and stops at the head to flick his tongue over it.

He knows that move drives Misha insane.

So Misha doesn't feel guilty at all when he lets himself tip over the edge and comes down Jensen's throat. Jensen, bless him, stays in place, takes every drop Misha gives, and swallows it all. He even licks Misha clean before he tucks him back into his boxers – orange as always – and pulls up his pants.

“And after this I can concentrate on entertaining a room full of rabid fangirls _how_?” Misha grumbles without venom.

Jensen laughs, that happy, bubbling laughter of his that turns Misha to mush whenever he hears it.

“No, seriously,” Jensen starts when he has calmed down and gotten to his feet again, runnning his tongue along his still-reddened lips. “We're good, aren’t we?”

“Yeah, we are,” Misha nods.

“No hard feelings?”

Misha grins down at the visible bulge in Jensen's pants and chuckles. “Well, apart from that...”

“Yeah, I think I need a ten minute break to take care of this now,” Jensen chuckles in return.

Misha can't prevent the groan that drops from his lips. “Let me repeat: And after this I can concentrate on entertaining a room full of rabid fangirls _how_?”

Jensen's disarming grin is the only answer he gets. 

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Misha groans again in frustration. 

A gentle finger pokes him in the ribs. “Mish, c'mon. I just wanna make sure.”

“Okay. No hard feelings. We're gonna have fun at the panel later.”

“You bet your ass we will.”

Their eyes meet over the short distance, Jensen's green ones breathtakingly beautiful as always, rendering Misha speechless once again.

When Misha slips out of the room and takes a look at his watch, he sighs.

His panel should've started 20 minutes ago. Daniela won't be pleased.

Also, it’s going to take him some time to find his sealegs for that panel.

****

**\--- THEN ---**

Coming on to the set of a show that was already in its fourth season wasn't particularly new to Misha. After all, he'd had his fair share of guest and recurring roles.

However, the set of Supernatural and its cast and crew surprised him completely.

He had never seen the show on TV before, knew barely anything other than that it was a show about demon- and ghost-hunting brothers. They had said he would have more interaction with one of the brothers at first, and of course Misha had googled Jensen Ackles. He tried not to have any prejudices against the guy, but as it turned out, all of them were completely false anyways.

Jensen Ackles was everything Misha did not expect.

Despite his good looks and obvious acting talent, he wasn't the stuck-up, arrogant prick that one might have assumed.

No. Apart from being friendly and nice to everyone around, down to earth and so refreshingly _normal_ for an actor, he was also stupidly hot – even more so in person.

Which hadn't been a problem for Misha before. He could appreciate working with hot guys and girls alike, but it didn't mean he would even consider acting on that appreciation. No matter how much he wanted to get into said co-star's pants.

And damn, did he want to get into Jensen Ackles' pants.

That the first scene they filmed together had Jensen looking at him both intimidated and admiring didn't help either. But it was Dean looking at Castiel like that, so Misha could draw the line right there.

As soon as Kim called a wrap on their scenes, though, Jensen changed completely. He shrugged off the angst-ridden and anxious skin of Dean Winchester and smiled widely at Misha.

“Great scene, man,” he said.

“Thank you,” Misha managed to reply in his normal voice.

Jensen did a double take at that, just like he had when Misha had introduced himself before, but didn't comment further on it.

“I'll see you tomorrow, then,” Misha smiled back.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow,” Jensen seemed confused, but Misha ignored it in favor of heading for his trailer.

Filming the barn scene had taken them a long, hot day in mid July, and while Jensen had obviously been used to that, Misha wasn't. And he was usually a friendly, sociable guy, too, but he had been tired as hell that day.

In private, Jensen told him later how Misha had given him a boner right there with his big entrance and low rumbling voice. That was when they had been fucking for half a year already and Misha complained about his sore throat.

Jensen had proceeded with, “Or maybe it's just sore because of something else,” and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Misha had laughed at him, because well – it was partly true.

****

**\--- NOW ---**

[Their panel](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWN2hszI0c4#t=0) starts out innocently enough, and if there's some residual awkwardness that follows them through having the kid Misha brings on stage and answering the first few questions, then that's that. But Misha is constantly on the move, leaning into his space, resting his hand on his chair, standing so close they're almost touching. If the fans notice, they don't let it show at first.

Jensen notices, of course, and it makes him jittery.

It all kicks into high gear when a girl asks where the monsters go if they die in purgatory. Misha makes shit up and Jensen rolls along with it, and that's all they need to leave the awkward part behind. From there on out, the well-oiled machine that is them at conventions runs smoothly. 

When Jensen's resumé turns up, it's all but hysterical how they both jump on the resumé-off-wagon.

When Misha starts with his Russian accent, Jensen honestly has to stand behind his chair so the 'Jensen pops a boner' gifs won't show up later on the internet. There'd been enough occasions where Misha used that particular accent to make him all hot and bothered, and it doesn't matter how many months ago they were, Jensen remembers them way too vividly.

And when Jensen swings his hips, he surely doesn't miss the leer Misha throws his way and how his eyes sparkle as he nods approvingly. It feels good to have Misha so at ease with him; that they can joke about this and have fun. There's always been sexual innuendo between them, and it's always been obvious to them and fun to play with.

Because yeah, the sexual part of their relationship came naturally, and a good part of the PDA too. Only after their fallout did Jensen noticed what they really do without thinking twice on a daily basis. Things like ass slaps, most recently just a few minutes ago [on their way](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lYLJgbRU_HY) to this panel. There’s shoulder touching, like, every minute. And then there's Misha's face so close to his, eyes crinkling up adorably with his unabashed laughter, so that Jensen just can't help himself but cup his cheek and push him away softly.

Jensen would have to lie in order to say he doesn't enjoy how Misha slowly but surely pushes closer and closer to him in his chair, too.

Throughout the panel, Jensen smiles so much that his cheeks hurt. Every time he looks over at Misha and their eyes lock, it's like that familiar current between them is too overwhelming, too consuming, but he still can't look away. He drinks in the sight of Misha all happy and outgoing, and lets himself go.

It's not like him, not at all. Jensen is known as the shy one, the private one, and for good reason. Still, Misha has always brought out that other side in him – the side that behaves like a 5-year-old, holding the resumé behind his back so Misha practically hugs him on stage to get to it and not-so-subtly gropes him as revenge. Jensen can't even blame him, because he truly had that one coming.

After he places the biggest box they’re given on Misha's chair only to have him find the two large sunflowers in it, Jensen blushes harder than he has in years and definitely more than he has during all his previous conventions. Sometimes, the universe just hands you a joke.

The way Misha grins and laughs at that makes Jensen's heart skip a beat. It seems only appropriate to subsequently hide his head in the box, because he has just no idea how to deal with it in that moment.

Truth is, it's a perfect representation of how he feels right now – he'd rather bury his face in the sand than face Misha, even though all of this was why he was attracted to him in the first place. His humor, his smile, his attitude, the nonchalance with which he dropped his jokes.

And here he thought he could get how he felt out of his system with a simple blowjob.

****

**\--- THEN ---**

“That guy is lightning in a bottle,” [Eric said](http://ohyeahsupernatural.tumblr.com/post/1333852246/eric-kripke-this-was-just-a-beautiful-little) after they had cast Misha – or, as he had been known back then, 'the new guy'. Eric would find out over the next few years just how right he really was with that statement.

However, when Misha walked into that barn, Jensen had been struck on more levels than just the part of him that was Dean. From the moment Misha crowded into his space, eyes piercing blue as they met his, plus that deep, rolling voice, Jensen was sure of two things. 

Misha was trouble.

And he would absolutely love to spread that guy out on a bed and take him apart, piece by piece, until he was hoarse from moaning. _That voice_ , seriously. It did _things_ to him.

It was nothing like [the voice Misha had introduced himself with](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmDJ7DqJWTk) earlier. Most of their guest actors that had a recurring role displayed their characters as part of themselves, not as someone so completely different. It was an interesting, uncommon choice on Misha's part that had Jensen a bit confused and a lot intrigued.

Jensen had spent very little time in his life being confused about his sexuality – he liked women, mostly, but that didn't mean that he couldn't enjoy bringing home a guy from time to time. It just meant he had to be more careful about it since he was still an actor and kind of a person of public interest.

It hadn't taken Jared long to figure it out. All it needed was a guy's night out and a bar where a fairly-intoxicated Jensen shamelessly started to flirt with a handsome, dark-haired guy in the sparsely populated establishment. By the time Jared returned from the restroom, Jensen had the guy practically sitting in his lap and purring filthy things into his ear. Jared pulled him off without hesitation and said harshly, “Dude, you're in no shape to have anything _remotely_ counting as good sex. C'mon, you need to sleep it off.”

“'m fine,” Jensen had mumbled, but Jared hadn't taken no for an answer. He just grabbed Jensen around the waist and dragged him out to flag down a taxi.

In retrospect, it had been the right thing to do.

And Jared had never said another word about the non-issue of Jensen's apparent bisexuality.

For the record, Jared was never a possibility or interested in Jensen as more than a friend; he knew that Jensen had found him smoking hot on first impression, and that was that. Jared was his best friend, he was the guy Jensen spent his 15 hour workdays with, and he was as straight as they came. So Jensen had decided a long time ago, when the pilot of Supernatural had been picked up, that he wouldn't make his life miserable and chase after hopeless dreams. Also, mixing work with pleasure and all that. Not his thing.

Until Misha happened.

As soon as he dropped the character of Castiel, Misha's voice went about three octaves higher, although that didn't mean that it became any less hot. After they filmed that first scene, he had left Jensen standing awkwardly on the set of the barn with one eye on the camera department and a quiet murmur of, 'What is he doing?' behind him.

Jim Beaver had spared him a curious glance and left for his own trailer.

“How's the new guy?” Jared asked later when Jensen came home.

“[Really nice](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cmDJ7DqJWTk), but I – I have no idea what the hell he’s doing with that voice. Really strange. Don't get me wrong, he's not a bad actor. At all. So, uh... good, nice, strange.”

Jared laughed at Jensen's babbling as if he knew what was up right then.

They had continued to sneak around set and tried to catch glimpses of Misha acting as Castiel, which proved to be both creepy and hilarious and Jensen found himself being kind of infatuated with the new guy.

Anyway, six episodes was what Castiel's appearance had been limited to at the time, so Jensen knew this infatuation would come to an end rather soon. After 'Lazarus Rising' aired and they were busy filming 'I Know What You Did Last Summer', Eric came on set to announce Castiel wouldn't die at the end of next episode, that they would leave the door open. From what Eric told them, the fans and producers had taken to the character immediately and the feedback was overwhelmingly positive.

In the following weeks, they had a few episodes to film without Misha, and Jensen's nerves were grateful for that. Not that he didn't like Misha – quite the opposite, he had to admit. After a few conversations he decided that Misha was actually a pretty laid back guy, someone he definitely enjoyed working and hanging out with. But damn, there was something about him. Something in his eyes that fascinated Jensen and wouldn’t leave him be.

He found Misha's eyes focusing on him longer than necessary a couple times, and he would have been lying if he said he didn't secretly hope. Hope that he wasn't alone in this - which didn't meant that he wasn't way too afraid to address the matter anyway.

However, when Christmas break was over and they started filming the second half of the season, beginning with 'Death Takes a Holiday', there were more pressing events on hand.

Like losing Kim Manners, which would still be the biggest loss they ever had to work through even four years later. He left an undeniable gap in their crew and to say the atmosphere on set was dark and depressed would've been the understatement of the year. Everyone seemed a foot smaller at the best of times, walking around with their shoulders hunched. In the end though, they were professionals, and they did their job as best as they could.

And as it always did – life went on. 

From the moment Misha plopped down next to him after they wrapped up filming the episode and handed him a beer, Jensen knew it would be okay. Somehow, someday, it would be.

“Thanks,” he said, motioning with the can at Misha before he opened it and clinked it with his.

With a nervous sip from his own can of beer, Misha began, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

Jensen shrugged, “Shoot.”

“How do you do it? You know, having fans, being a role model.”

Jensen chuckled. “Did you google yourself?”

“I might have,” Misha admitted with a shy smile that made Jensen's stomach do a flip of some sort. It wasn't unpleasant, but it hadn't happened that prominently before.

“Well, first of all, don't do that,” Jensen shook his head. “Never, ever, again.”

“That's probably a good idea,” Misha mumbled into the opening of his beer can, looking down at his feet. “Although I have a pretty good idea why _you_ don't do it.”

Jensen groaned. “So you found my modeling pictures.”

“I might have,” Misha grinned. “But don't worry, judgment-free zone.” He playfully slapped his hand on Jensen's thigh before letting it rest there. “You know, I'm currently just busy making sure there are no such pictures of me being spread around.”

The hand slipped off, and Jensen had to take a deep breath to ignore the tingling feeling in his leg. Only then did it filter through what Misha had said. “So there are such pictures of you?” he asked with a curiously raised eyebrow.

“There might be.”

“Stop beating around the bush, Collins. Facts, stat,” Jensen teased him. “What are they, pictures of you in drag or-?”

Misha's head jerked up.

“No way,” Jensen's grin grew a notch wider, disbelief turning into amusement.

“Well,” Misha scratched the back of his neck, a move that reminded Jensen so much of himself that he felt a wave of fondness for the other man wash through him.

“Either you keep them locked up really well, or you make sure you're the one who publishes them,” Jensen advised on a more serious note. “And for the record, you better show me those if you have seen mine.”

“Show you mine because I've seen yours?”

Misha's eyes were teasing, but there was an undercurrent to the cheeky comment that made Jensen look at Misha with different eyes. In hindsight, it had been the moment where they both subconsciously realized just how attracted to each other they really were.

“Yeah, kinda,” Jensen managed to cough, voice rough.

Misha smiled widely at him, running his fingers along the rim of the can. Jensen remembers that even years later because the sexual tension had skyrocketed at that moment.

“Okay,” Misha replied with a lopsided grin, and before it turned into a situation Jensen wasn't ready for, he had tried to change the subject.

“Anyway, let me guess – You're nervous about your first convention?” 

Misha fixed him with an amused, but wavering smile at that. “Yes,” he shrugged. The purse of his lips and the worry in his eyes were kind of adorable, Jensen had to admit to himself.

“Don't be. Cute guy like you, they're just gonna eat you alive,” Jensen laughed, which had been a rarity over the last few days.

Misha stared at him.

That's when Jensen realized that he had just made a compliment. Really, he just wanted to change the subject. He coughed again, then quickly backpedaled. “I mean, the fans loved you in those first couple episodes, right? They're gonna love you at conventions, too. There's always a few very strange questions and stuff, but it's gonna be fine. Even if there are photos of you in drag. Maybe especially because of that.”

As it turned out, he was right on both of those counts, and the fans have delightedly sucked up Misha's bullshit at conventions and his weird photos to hilarious effects ever since.

Then two things happened shortly one after another.

There was the filming of 'On the Head of a Pin'. There was the intense scene of Dean torturing an impressively played Alistair while Misha watched from the sidelines. There was the magnificent fight scene between Castiel and Uriel, which Jensen also watched from the sidelines. And there was Dean, lying in a hospital bed with a tube in his nose, crying as he confessed to Cas his biggest fear of not being strong enough to stop the apocalypse. Which he hadn't been able to tell anyone, not even Sam.

After Mike yelled cut, Jensen and Misha took a long look at each other, Jensen's cheeks still streaked with tears.

“Seriously, wow,” is what Misha said, and those two words couldn't have been said with more admiration, more amazement. “I mean, this whole episode... wow. If I didn't already know that you're an incredibly talented actor...”

Jensen smiled and reached up to wipe the tears off his face, now that he didn't need to care about his makeup any more. “Thanks. And, you know, right back at you.”

The smile they shared was warm and genuine, and for the first time, Jensen was grateful that Castiel would be the angel on Dean's shoulder, not Anna. Sure, he liked Julie, but Misha? Completely different.

Misha continued to stare, and continued to stay at his side all throughout the prop guys removing him from the fake tubes, even followed him to the wardrobe trailer afterwards.

“How about a drink after all this?” Misha finally asked. “Tomorrow's Sunday, and I think we kind of deserve it.”

That's how they ended up in Misha's trailer for the first time. That's also how Jensen ended up with his back against the kitchenette in said trailer, and Misha in front of him, leaning in way too close to tease him. Jensen long since forgot the reason for that, because he was frozen as soon as Misha invaded his personal space.

Dean and Castiel tended to share a bubble of personal space most of the time, but this was different. This was Misha's eyes dropping to Jensen's lips while he licked his own way too plush and inviting ones. This was Jensen standing there with his heart racing, hard in his pants and wanting nothing more than to grab Misha's hips and rub up against him. Misha had that effect on him, driving him mad with desire and barely letting him hold on to what he thought he should and shouldn't do. Like make out or have sex with co-workers.

Their breath became hot and harsh on each other's skin, and Jensen was barely able to resist the temptation of latching his lips onto Misha's. He hadn't experienced anything like this ever before – the attraction, the gravity pulling him towards Misha.

That's when Misha's low voice whispered into his ear, “Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think this has been going on for a while now. And you know exactly what I'm talking about.”

He retreated, took a step back from Jensen who clutched his hands desperately around the edge of the counter to keep them in check. So Misha had managed to look through him right away. And it's not like he could deny his feelings at this point, they were too strong for that.

“Misha,” he moaned, dropping his head back against the kitchen cabinet and closing his eyes. “This is so not a good idea.”

“Well, does it feel like a bad idea to you?” Misha asked, but never gave Jensen a second to answer.

Instead, he pushed up and sealed their lips together, kissing Jensen like it was the best thing that ever happened to him. And God help him, Jensen could only kiss him back with all he had, Misha's lips sliding in-between his and opening willingly. Their tongues met for a quick second, just a taste of beer on the tip of them, before Jensen cupped Misha's cheeks with both hands. He placed one last peck onto those lips he had been dying to kiss since the moment Misha walked into the barn, and pulled away.

“We can't,” he said with a wistful frown. “I don't do this, not with co-stars. It always ends up in a mess.”

And before he could crumble under Misha's pleading eyes, he quickly left the trailer and went to sleep in his own.

****

**\--- NOW ---**

After the closing ceremony of 2013's 'Jus in Bello' convention, Jensen unlocks the door of his hotel room with a heavy sigh. Well, he should have known better than to pull that stunt with Misha earlier. “You know what this means, right?”

“War?” Misha guesses, an impish, way too sexy grin splitting his lips as he closes the door behind him.

“It means,” Jensen turns to him with a raised eyebrow, “that you [groping and humping](http://bakasara.tumblr.com/post/50327198482/what-the-fuck-is-happening) me on stage during our panel will be all over the internet in about...” he takes a look at his watch for show, “... oh, right about now.”

In two quick steps Misha crowds into Jensen's space, backing him up against the wall of his hotel room. “So?” he asks, watching Jensen with a smirk.

Jensen swallows and hopes that the coolness of the wall at his back will somehow seep through his body and calm him down. After a few moments of waiting and feeling his own heart flutter, then beat faster, he gives up on that. 

“It's not like I haven't done it before,” Misha's blue eyes are full of mischief as his right leg hovers dangerously in front of Jensen's crotch.

“Not in front of hundreds of fans,” Jensen objects as he tries hard to ignore the leg. “With cameras.”

Misha leans in, soft pink lips plush and so kissable as they pass by Jensen's to whisper into his ear. “As if we both don't know that us looking at each other is enough to make them go crazy anyway.”

Misha's voice is as dark and low as Castiel's, making Jensen's insides burn up with hot, unfiltered need. On top of that, Misha rests his muscular forearm against the wall beside Jensen's head.

“Misha, please,” Jensen groans in frustration, effectively draining the last of his remaining self-control. Misha's lips look way too inviting, and Jensen knows how they feel against his – their texture, the way those slightly chapped lips would graze against his, how they would make him want even more.

“What is it?” Misha asks flatly. “After that panel, after we practically-”

“Because you know how this ends,” Jensen interrupts Misha, his own voice and tone betraying him, giving away his true thoughts. Namely, that he's longing to kiss Misha like he hasn't in years.

“Yeah, I do,” Misha teases.

Jensen shakes his head. “I don't know if I want it to end there.”

“You mean in bed?” And he's even closer now, eyes twinkling and daring and so, so tempting.

Jensen groans again and shifts on his feet. If there was any space between them, he'd adjust himself in his pants, because Misha's voice is making him all hot and bothered. That, and... the bed. God. “Yeah, I mean in bed. Thanks for the mental image.”

“You're welcome.”

“Spare me the sardonic smile, will you? I really don't know if we should... if I want this.”

Misha closes his eyes, his chest heaving with a deep sigh. “Says you, the one who showed up offering a blowjob earlier. Mixed signals, Jen.”

Jensen huffs out a bitter laugh, more than aware of his cock straining hard against the confines of his boxer briefs. “Yeah, turns out that didn't help as much as I thought it would.”

Raising his left eyebrow, Misha eyes him carefully. “Not that I want to blame you, but you kind of only made me want you more with that,” his voice drops to that seductive rumble that renders Jensen useless.

“Oh?” he manages with a smile tugging at the edge of his lips. Two could play this game, and as long as he doesn't reach out and give into temptation, it's fine. Safe.

“Yes, _oh,_ ” Misha smirks. “So what shall we do about that?”

“Hm. Fuck it out?” Jensen suggests, deadpan.

“Don't make a promise you can't keep.”

At the warm rumble of Misha's voice, Jensen feels the old, familiar desire curl in his stomach. Misha is too close to ignore the hot breath on his cheek, the smell of him surrounding Jensen and fueling his arousal even more. Jensen wants to answer, but finds himself inches away from Misha's cheek, wanting to kiss down his jaw, nibble at the edge and bite down under his ear. The urge is overwhelming, itching at the back of his mind while his common sense tells him to keep his distance. However, Jensen's common sense ultimately loses when Misha places his leg between Jensen's, not touching, just, standing between his open legs, dangerously close to his crotch. Waiting for him to lean forward and rub his achingly hard dick against it.

He should've known better, really. Nothing is ever safe when it comes to Misha. 

Jensen voices his defeat with a deep groan.

“What do you want, Jen?” Misha asks, his voice rough, eyelids dropping to half-mast. “Come on, tell me. You don't get to get me all worked up with your stupidly hot dancing and flirting and then not follow through. You made your bed, now you get to sleep in it – with me, preferably.”

Jensen's lips part again, but only to suck in some air. The look in Misha's eyes leaves him speechless, defenseless. Misha kind of has a point, which Jensen doesn't want to dwell on. “Your mouth around my cock?” he mumbles under his breath. Yeah, that sounds good. Misha's perfect, perfect lips first on his own, then around his dick.

“I'm sorry, I didn't get that,” the edges of Misha's lips twitch.

He's too tightly strung to protest. Too aroused on top of that. So he simply says, without a waver in his voice, “I want your mouth around my cock. Want you to suck me off.”

Misha blinks a few times, and his jaw tightens, the muscles tensing visibly under the dark stubble on his cheek. It's only taunting Jensen even more than before.

“Tell me more,” Misha demands with lust-clouded blue eyes.

Jensen can't help it. He looks down to find not only the bulge in his own jeans, but a matching one in Misha's, the faded fabric stretching obscenely.

A dirty chuckle makes him look up again, only to be met again with Misha's breathtaking blue eyes and a leer on his lips.

And if that isn't a challenge Jensen is very much up to. He smirks, his voice dropping into the octave usually reserved for Dean, and the twang that's usually reserved for back home in Texas. “Want you to deep-throat me, let me fuck your mouth until you try to make me come by doing that thing with your tongue. That thing that makes you look so goddamn hot when you do it. And I wouldn't complain, believe me, I'd come in your mouth, let you swallow it all, just to kiss you afterwards and lick it off your tongue.”

“ _Jesus,_ ” Misha gasps, closing his eyes.

Jensen grins in satisfaction, although he talked himself into such a frenzy that he's not even sure if he can press the heel of his hand onto his erection without spilling in his jeans right now. Shit, but he wants to, really badly.

Jensen takes the risk of a spontaneous orgasm and presses down hard on his cock. It has the desired effect of clearing his head, although not much. Misha's eyes snap open when he hears Jensen's relieved sigh, following the line of his arm down to his crotch, and he swallows visibly.

“That what you want, too?” Jensen somehow manages to whisper hoarsely into Misha's ear.

“No,” is the other man's answer, deep and heavy, “I might let you fuck my mouth and I might do that thing with my tongue, but even if you begged I wouldn't let you come. I'd strip you out of all your stupid sexy clothes and eat you out until you begged me to fuck you-”

This time, it's Jensen's turn to give a strangled, inarticulate whimper that he will forever deny. By now, his cock is pulsing in his jeans, demanding some kind of manual stimulation, and his brain is swimming in lust and the urge to slam Misha against the wall and have his way with him, right here, right now. They're still not touching, but it's merely inches between them, which makes the situation even more nerve-wrecking for Jensen.

“Did I just make you speechless, Jen?” Misha teases, but the rawness of his voice gives him away. Hell, Misha is just as affected by this as he is.

Jensen gulps, his throat feeling dry and rough.

Misha's lips, hovering so close, are taunting Jensen even more than Misha's words ever could. He hasn't had the sensation of feeling them on his own for two long years. And yes, he craves that sensation, he wants to kiss Misha senseless and breathless and-

Misha smirks as if he knows about the struggle currently taking place in Jensen's overactive brain. The twinkle in his eyes says 'You know you want to', and his lips promise pure, unadulterated sin.

Well, shit. Might as well admit it.

***

“I want to kiss you, Mish.”

At Jensen's roughly spoken words, a shudder runs down Misha's spine. He moans, breathless and silent, just enough to make Jensen feel it against his cheek. “Want to kiss you, too,” Misha sighs in reply.

Jensen's eyes are fixed on his, unwavering except for the occasional glance down at his lips, especially when Misha licks over them. Sue him, they're dry and oh, kissing Jensen would help so much with that. But they both know that if they start, then they won't be able to stop, not until-- no, he definitely shouldn't even think about it.

“But I know I shouldn't. I don't want to make this complicated again. Took us long enough to get over that,” Jensen voices the thoughts that are nagging at Misha's brain, too. “There's a reason why I avoided that... you know, earlier.”

“I still want to kiss you,” Misha objects, smiling.

“I don't want to disturb the truce we have,” Jensen adds weakly, eyebrows raised pleadingly.

Misha leans forward to whisper, his lips grazing over the shell of Jensen's ear, “Me neither, but I also want to suck you until you're begging to come.”

Jensen groans, dropping his head against the wall behind him. “This is-- I don't want to start into season nine all awkward.”

“I want to fuck you into the mattress until you forget your own name,” Misha tries again, because he might understand exactly what Jensen's point is, but he also couldn't care less. They'll sort it out, like they always do. Somehow.

“Misha-” Jensen groans again.

“That's what you're gonna scream in bed tonight, baby,” Misha smirks. Jensen never liked pet names and he only ever accepted the 'baby' when they were in bed. The truth, and Misha knows it, is that it's a huge turn-on for him.

“ _Fuck_.” 

“One night, for old times' sake?” Misha offers.

“That's the lamest excuse I've ever heard,” Jensen chuckles, his eyelids dropping as his chest heaves with a deep breath.

Misha feels it, the heat of him, the arousal in the air between them. Jensen's Adam's apple bops as he swallows heavily, then tilts his head towards Misha to meet his eyes.

They look at each other for a long moment, silently reasoning with each other, weighing the pros and cons while being very aware of the other doing the same. Misha takes advantage of the situation and he has no qualms about admitting that he's staring. Jensen's adorable freckles scattered around his nose and cheeks are almost countable from this distance, and Misha can see that Jensen's lips are sore from where he nibbled on them. All he wants to do at this point is lean in, run his tongue soothingly over that sensitive spot, literally kiss it better until Jensen moans into his mouth.

It's a struggle that they're both afraid of, and Misha knows that if they really did have sex right now, they'd need to work on their relationship some more in order to keep it natural, keep it the way they managed it throughout the last year.

His dick insistently pushing against his zipper aside, it's not like Misha can’t control himself anymore. Yeah, he's horny and desperate and he wants to kiss Jensen, craves it like it's a physical need that requires satisfying right now or else he'll die, but he can control it. The pull towards Jensen is stronger than he’s ever experienced it, though, despite how they always gravitate towards each other anyway.

“I want you,” Jensen speaks, finally, his voice dark and hoarse and ten kinds of hot.

“Want you, too,” Misha admits, his own voice not sounding any better, but he grins. _Always wanted you,_ he adds in his mind, but doesn't dare say it. There's a line somewhere here, and he's still not sure where it is exactly.

Jensen leans in then, and it's like the proverbial sparks are flying yet again when his nose brushes against Misha's, lips so close they might as well be kissing, but instead – instead it's leaning close together, aligning their bodies, enjoying the slow process of touching, limb after limb slotting together. Misha's hand drops to Jensen's shoulder, and Jensen's arm curls slowly around Misha's waist. It brings Misha's leg in-between Jensen's, making contact where it only hovered before, and Jensen moans, his other hand curling into the short hair at the nape of Misha's neck.

Their lips run along each other's, the feather-light touch of them making Misha's nerves tingle and his heart jump.

Yeah, Jensen might be a stubborn bastard when heneeds to be, but that never worked when Misha was involved. This is his default Misha setting, has been since day one. And Misha knows that.

****

**\--- THEN ---**

Since Jared had the Saturday following the evening of his and Misha’s first kiss off, he was waiting at home when Jensen returned on Sunday. It took him exactly one glance at Jensen to ask, “Everything okay?”

“No, not really. And before you ask, I don't wanna talk about it,” Jensen brushed him off. With that, he had thrown his bag into the guest room he currently occupied and headed for the bathroom. And Jared left him alone, because he was an awesome friend like that.

In fact, Jared left him be for the next three weeks, right until they started filming 'The Rapture'. Or more like, until Misha started filming 'The Rapture'. Which was the reason they both found themselves at home on a day they had off from work, utterly clueless about what to do with that rare amount of free time.

“I dunno,” Jensen shrugged, suggesting, “maybe we could just take a look on set, see what they're up to?”

And Jared smiled knowingly at him. “You just miss Misha, don't you?”

“What? No,” Jensen was quick to defend himself. Too quick, it seemed.

A smirk played around the edges of Jared's lips. “Dude, he's a great guy. By all means, go for it.”

“Just because you have a crush on Genevieve doesn't mean I have-”

“Seriously, Jen. There's not much of a difference, is there? You're just avoiding the subject.”

“Jared,” Jensen groaned.

“What? I've seen you during the past few weeks, man. If you haven't been pining, then I don't know what you’ve been doing. That something from three weeks ago that you're not telling me about, whatever it was-”

Jensen rolled his eyes. Really, he should've known better than try and hide something from his best friend whom he spent practically every minute of every day with. Thank God Misha hadn't been around for those past few weeks or it probably would've come up a lot earlier anyway. “Misha kissed me, okay?” he blurted out.

That got Jared's mouth to shut and his eyes to widen, before a shit-eating grin split his lips. “And?”

“And I didn't exactly... not kiss back,” Jensen mumbled, turning around to scratch the back of his neck. “C'mon, there's a reason I don't do this. You know that Genevieve won't be around for season 5, but Misha is going to be a _series regular_.”

“And that's not nearly as big a deal as you make it out to be. We've been around each other for almost four years now, too, and-”

“Yeah, but we're different. We're friends, man, but with Misha... I couldn't shake that feeling off from the second I met him. You know, the feeling that there's more, and that's...” Jensen shook his head.

Jared shrugged with an amused huff. “Yeah, because you guys have chemistry, and not the kind that you and I have.”

Jensen didn't really know what to say to that, so he was caught completely off guard when Jared pressed Sadie's leash into his hand. “Let's go for a walk. If we happen to pass by the studio, then rest assured that it's just pure and utter coincidence.”

And that's the story of how Jared managed to get Jensen on set on their day off, much to Misha's surprise – and joy – because when they wrapped up filming for the day, Jensen found himself in Misha's trailer once again.

“Listen, about-” he began with a deep sigh, but Misha interrupted him.

“We don't need to talk about it if you don't want to,” he said as he shrugged off Castiel's trenchcoat and folded it over the back of his couch.

“Yeah, well, I want to talk about it.”

“No, Jensen, I meant like... we don't need to discuss it. One word would be enough.”

And there it was again, the heat in Misha's eyes, the challenge, and the smirk on his lips taunted Jensen more than the way he was currently stripping off Castiel's tie.

Jensen swallowed heavily. “I don't want this to complicate anything.”

“Hey, we're professionals, aren't we?”

The wink of Misha's blue eyes left Jensen breathless, his chest heaving and his stomach twisting with anticipation. “Well, yeah.”

“Good,” Misha answered, then shrugged off Castiel's suit jacket and stood before Jensen in his white button-down and slacks, his hair adorably disheveled.

“Okay, then,” Jensen stated firmly, his fingers itching to entangle themselves in Misha's brown strands.

“And that was the word I was waiting for,” Misha chuckled. Then he raised his hand and rested it on Jensen's chest, right above his heart.

Jensen didn't think twice at that point, just placed his hands on Misha's hips and shoved them together, their hardening dicks rubbing together over the restricting fabric of their clothing. Misha kissed him, open-mouthed and desperate, and pushed him back towards his bed.

And that's how they ended up in bed for the first time.

Afterwards, they lay side by side, trading lazy kisses as Jensen stroked Misha's cheek with his hand. When Misha broke the kiss and noticed the broad silver ring on Jensen's ring finger, he held Jensen's hand out to examine it. “When did you get that? I never noticed.”

“I don't wear it often,” Jensen shrugged, and watched Misha trace his finger around the warm metal.

“I like it,” Misha said quietly, then leaned over Jensen's hand to suck at his finger playfully.

Months later, when they met for their first convention in Canada, they found themselves in a similar situation. Except that Jensen, tired from his flight up from Texas, had fallen asleep after round one, and when he woke up, it was to find Misha fumbling around with said ring on his middle finger.

“Keep it,” Jensen had mumbled, too tired to fully open his eyes, but still awake enough to shoot a wide grin at his... whatever Misha was after a few months of fucking frequently.

“Really? I mean, I didn't want to-”

“No, it's cool,” Jensen cleared his throat and looked up at slightly guilty looking blue eyes. “Honestly, I didn't know what to get you for your birthday anyway. And it looks better on you, you know.”

The sudden possessive streak that hit Jensen at that very moment surprised him, but when Misha blushed and kissed him long and slow to thank him, it made it worth it.

And when Misha couldn't quite keep his mouth shut at the Vancouver convention and the fans discovered where Misha's ring came from, said possessive streak flared up once again, proving to Jensen that it had been the right thing to do.

But, still. They didn't talk about what they were to each other. They just were, and it was okay.

***

“You got laser eye surgery during hiatus?” Misha asked by way of greeting when they returned to set for season five.

“Yeah?” Jensen replied, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline as if he didn't know what to think of Misha's reaction.

Misha quickly took a look around to make sure they were alone before pulling him behind one of the set pieces standing around. “Damn, I'm gonna miss your sexy glasses,” he whispered before kissing Jensen hard.

Jensen grinned into the kiss, their first one since the last convention. “You know, I could still wear them when we, you know-”

With a quiet moan, Misha shut him up with another kiss, and they took a moment to enjoy being back together on set and having this. Whatever it was.

Until someone beside them cleared their throat and they jumped apart quickly. 

“Jesus,” Jensen said and let his head drop back against the dry wall behind him.

Misha breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was only Jared.

“Thought I'd warn you guys before Bob shows up,” Jared said with an impish grin. “You need to be more careful. Or, you know, save yourself the trouble and just tell everyone.”

Misha looked over at Jensen, but he found the same insecurity shining in his eyes that he felt himself. Even though the whole not seeing Jensen when they weren’t at conventions thing had kind of eaten him up during hiatus. And conventions in itself were hard enough to do with Jensen around, which meant that one of their hotel rooms at each convention remained completely unused every time. It was a weird limbo they were in, from the end of season four and spontaneously falling into bed with each other to not seeing each other for weeks.

But, no, they both didn't want to put a name to it.

They weren't official in any way, and in mutual, silent agreement, they both shook their heads at Jared that day.

Misha was on set a lot more as a series regular, naturally. And since Jared was with Gen now, not only did Jensen move out into his own place again, but he also had a bigger chunk of free time. As much as an actor on Supernatural could have, that was, and Misha took full advantage of it.

Over the course of filming season five, every glance Dean threw at Castiel managed to get Misha hot and bothered. Jared drew the attention away from them most of the time with his efforts to get Misha to crack up, which he especially enjoyed because Jensen's laugh at Jared’s attempts was the best thing in the world. Even with the distractions, Misha still ended up on his knees in Jensen's trailer with Jensen's cock in his mouth more often than not.

And it was fine. Really, it was. They were good like this. They didn't need a label to define them.

Because they still hung out as friends a lot, watched a movie and had a beer in the evenings. Without touching, without sex. 

There were also mornings spent in total domestic bliss, with Misha kissing Jensen awake and making him coffee and them having breakfast together with a lot of smiling and groping in-between. And morning sex in the shower.

Cliff only shot them a raised eyebrow the first time Misha stumbled out of the door of Jensen's apartment in the morning. “Guess we don't have to stop by Misha's place, then,” he commented drily once the two were seated. That remained to be the only comment he ever made about the matter, and from then on Misha never bothered to return to his own apartment at night.

Seeing as their workload didn't decrease over those nine months of filming, Jensen didn't show any inclination to change anything about their arrangement. He seemed content with where they were, and honestly, so was Misha. It wasn't like he felt the need to settle down anytime soon.

When season six rolled around, a few things changed.

They didn't get to see each other much during hiatus, apart from conventions. Misha mostly stayed in his house in L. A., constantly working on it, and Jensen took the time to travel down to Texas and catch up with his family and friends. Plus, Jensen had preparations to make for directing his very first episode.

Hanging out around L. A. occasionally whenever Jensen was in town was all they had for three months.

Still, it was different from hanging out on set and seeing him regularly.

Which turned out to be another surprise for the season. Misha might have been a series regular, but he wasn't around nearly as often as he thought he would be, which was disappointing.

And then there was the issue of Castiel's story arch. They had been informed of Castiel's war on two fronts simultaneously beforehand, but the extent of it hadn't become clear until they all held Ben's script of 'The Man Who Would Be King' in their hands. It was a wonderfully written Ben Edlund script, picking up and explaining a lot of loose ends, but it _hurt_.

To say Misha was pissed, especially after reading it, would've been the understatement of the year.

**\--- NOW ---**

“Don't start what you can't finish,” Jensen warns softly.

“Who says I can't?” Misha asks back with a mischievous blink of his eyes.

Fuck, Misha is playing him like the crowd in the auditorium down there. And he fell for it, all the way.

Jensen takes a step forward, useing his taller body to take Misha with him and guiding him towards the bed with both hands on his shoulders. Misha's eyes widen in surprise, but the moment his thighs hit the mattress of Jensen's hotel bed, Misha buckles under his weight. They end up in a heap of limbs sprawled out on the bed, Jensen straddling Misha's hips and their faces inches apart.

Leaning down, Jensen captures Misha's lips with his, kissing him hard and demanding until they're both short of breath. He can feel Misha's cock hardening against his own, Misha's hips bucking up to rub against his crotch. Jensen nips at Misha's plush bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth to lick over it, and is rewarded with a hot groan from the man underneath him.

That they had postponed this for so long is a miracle in itself.

Filming season eight wasn't a cakewalk, and it had made Jensen more than once return to his trailer after yet another emotional scene with Misha, just to calm down and catch his breath. The easy back-and-forth that they knew so well from earlier seasons was definitely harder with the tension of not being together any more.

Yet, here they are, entangled on Jensen's hotel bed, rutting against each other, moaning into each other's mouths without a care in the world.

“Fuck,” Misha groans under him, blue eyes blown wide open with lust. “Jen...”

Misha's blue plaid shirt is rucked up, revealing his black undershirt, and Jensen uses his position on top of him to open the buttons quickly and strip him out of both pieces of clothing. His own dark button-down is also quickly taken care of, Jensen opening it from the top while Misha works on the buttons from below.

Undressing each other is a familiar exercise, and they handle it quickly and efficiently. But not without Misha groping Jensen's ass, because he always does that. And when Jensen protests half-heartedly, Misha simply says, “You should've seen yourself during that dance on stage. Wanted to pull you behind the curtain and fuck you right there.”

Jensen shakes his head as he drops his boxer briefs to the floor beside Misha's orange pair. “That's not how it’s gonna work today, Mish.”

Blue eyes widen for a second, before narrowing suspiciously. “It isn't?”

Kneeling down on the bed, Jensen kicks Misha's legs apart. “Nope.” And with that, he leans down, slots their naked bodies together, and lets the sound of Misha's deep groan fuel his own arousal.

Misha's hands run up his back until they're in his hair, pulling him down into a hot, open-mouthed kiss. His breath comes in short huffs and tickleshis beard, and Misha's stubble grazes familiarly along his cheek. Jensen works a hand between their bodies to wrap it around both their cocks, stroking them simultaneously. With a gasp, Misha breaks the kiss only to bite down on his lower lip, making Jensen groan impatiently.

“Where's the lube?” Misha asks right then, his voice rough.

Jensen ponders that for a moment, before moaning in frustration. “Aw, shit. In the bathroom. I'm gonna get it and you aren't going anywhere, 'kay?”

Before he retreats, Jensen kisses Misha one more time, long and hard until they need to come up for air. Then he slides down Misha's body, kissing a line down his chest, over hard nipples and the trained muscles on Misha's stomach, and ultimately sucks Misha's dick down only once. Misha's legs are shaking, but Jensen doesn't say anything about it, seeing as his own stomach is in knots from anticipation. Rolling off the bed, he gets to his feet and fetches the bottle of lube and a condom from his toiletries bag.

Misha is still spread out on his bed with his chest heaving, a gorgeous sight for sore eyes.

Jensen smiles warmly as he takes his former place between Misha's legs, wordlessly shoveing one of the pillows under Misha's ass. The lube pops open easily, and Jensen places a quick kiss on Misha's knee as he spreads it on his right hand, warming it between his fingers.

They've done this more than a couple of times, and Jensen is perfectly aware of how little foreplay Misha needs at times like this. Still, it didn't change how much he used to enjoy making Misha squirm and thrust down on his fingers. Misha takes the first finger easily, and Jensen slips a second finger in immediately after.

“Jesus, fuck, I missed this,” Misha moans, followed by a shiver through his body when Jensen finds his prostate.

Under his ministrations, Misha quickly turns into a panting mess, bucking up into his touch, shoving Jensen's fingers deeper into him. After barely a minute, Misha pushes up onto his elbow to reach the condom Jensen has thrown down on the mattress beside him.

“C'mere,” he says with a nod of his head.

Jensen follows, crawling up to Misha's side without slipping his fingers from his ass. He's rubbing circles around Misha's prostrate and is having way too much fun seeing him writhe under his hands to stop. Misha manages to rip the packet open and rolls the condom down the length of Jensen's hard cock, even takes the time to fondle his balls, sending another wave of need through Jensen.

Jensen is far from patient at this point. He kneels down between Misha's legs, hoists the left one up with his free hand, and lines his dick up with Misha's entrance. When Jensen retrieves his fingers, he scissors Misha open, and before his fingers slip out completely, he replaces them with his cock. The transition is so fluid that Misha is stretched by two fingers and Jensen's dick for a short second, and he throws his head back with a loud, unabashed growl when Jensen slides home in one swift, but careful move.

Jensen gives him a moment to recover and get used to being filled up, gently running his hand over Misha's thigh. “You good?” he asks when Misha's eyes open to capture him in their piercing gaze.

“Yeah, I'm good.”

Spreading his own legs to gain more leverage, Jensen holds on to Misha's hip with his other hand and starts to fuck him slowly. The gentle roll of his hips is met by Misha's groin, every thrust into him, into the tight heat of his body, intensified by the deep vibration of his groans. Misha wasn't quiet, ever, during sex – only if they absolutely needed to be quiet, and that is a whole different kind of hot – and especially not when he was the one who bottomed.

Jensen feels his own orgasm building up in his belly already, feels how lust overwhelms him to the point where he watches Misha desperately, watching for signs that the other man is about to come, too.

“Oh for fuck's sake, touch me already,” Misha demands with a lopsided grin.

That's not a request Jensen needs to hear twice. He wraps the hand that's still partly covered in lube around Misha's cock and jerks him off in time with his thrusts. Misha's head falls back onto his pillow again, his body arching up into Jensen's.

It's hard to hold himself back from coming already, the muscles around his dick tight and the roll of Misha's hips so perfect. One word from Misha would be enough, and the other man knows that, too. So Jensen waits, holds himself there on the edge without tipping over it.

He just grips Misha's cock a bit tighter, swipes his thumb over the head the way he knows Misha loves it.

“Jen...” Misha gasps breathlessly, his eyes fixed on Jensen's over the distance. “Now-”

And Misha comes withhot spurts into Jensen's hand whichdribble down his fingers and onto his own stomach. Jensen barely takes notice, because he slams into Misha's body one last time and hits his own orgasm hard, emptying himself into the condom with a deep groan, before he collapses onto Misha's chest.

They're both panting, trying to catch their breath as their lips find each other's, kissing softly and with a smile between them.

Jensen reaches down to hold the condom in place when he slips out of Misha, then grabs a tissue from the bedside table to wrap it and throw it down on the floor. He cleans Misha up with another tissue, blue eyes blinking sleepily up at him.

Misha doesn't say anything, just wraps him in his arms and pulls the blanket over both of them.

For a moment, Jensen wonders why they ever stopped sleeping with each other when it's so perfect, but then he remembers.

**\--- THEN ---**

Jensen had his fair share of character bleed to deal with, mostly towards Jared in season four – it was hard to play Dean, constantly being at Sam's throat, without some kind of protective wall. But that was years ago. It’d never been much of a problem either because it was Jared, a giant goofball and all-around happy five-year-old in the body of a grown man. Character bleed be damned Jensen couldn't stay mad at him if his life depended on it.

Misha, though, had his own battles to work through. If Jensen knew one thing for sure by then, it was that Misha was an amazingly talented actor, and that he would pull off those scenes in 'The Man Who Would Be King' without a hitch.

But, as it were, Dean and Castiel were fighting. And not just quarrels or Castiel kicking Dean's ass because he wanted him to be strong and stand at his side. This time, it was a heavy fight. Something that could destroy their friendship, could be a deal breaker in their relationship.

And Misha didn't beat around the bush about how unhappy he was about the way Castiel was written off - not in front of Jensen, and not in front of the audience at conventions.

Jensen had a hard enough time dealing with the fallout of season six as it was, and Misha didn't exactly help with that. Misha was constantly agitated and on edge, snappy and too prissy for his own good, and Dean's own grudge against Cas wallowed inside Jensen whenever he saw Misha. It wasn't really sunshine and rainbows between them, and Jensen didn't have a hard time projecting that on screen.

When Castiel truly turned on the Winchesters in the finale, Jensen could barely stand being around Misha for two weeks. He had to look at Castiel during the last week of filming with so much mistrust and concern that it had seriously fucked with his headspace as Dean.

He was glad when they wrapped up filming season six together and he had a couple weeks off before con season kicked into high gear.

But, well, then con season kicked into high gear, and a month later, they had a premiere.

Their first real panel together was at a convention - the second 'Jus in Bello' convention in Rome.

According to the fans, Rome was where the magic happened. Jensen had to agree.

Panels with Misha couldn't be more different from panels with Jared, Jensen noticed quickly. While Jared couldn't ever be someone other than himself, loud and outgoing and funny, Misha had developed this stage persona that came through mostly in his solo panels. It was like a wall between himself and the audience, andit was obvious all the bullshitting Misha tended to do during panels was because he really needed it.

It was a moment of wonder for Jensen to see how said wall, along with Misha's stage persona, crumbled in his presence.

Misha had been a flirty bastard all along, but he enjoyed messing with Jensen even more when they were on stage.

And Jensen? Well, he was completely on board with that. Because how could he not flirt back when Misha's eyes glinted with mischief like that? Plus, the fans obviously didn't complain.

Jensen wasn't really bothered by it, not until Misha's faked orgasm. Which, yeah, he could admit made his pants a bit tight, even though it was so far from what Misha really sounded like when he came. But simply being reminded of those sweet little moans and gasps and a final groan wasn't what Jensen preferred to think about in a room full of fans.

***

After two episodes of season seven, one of which Misha was only part of for two minutes of screen time, that was it.

Cas was officially written out of Supernatural.

Misha wasn't a regular anymore and would go back to L. A. permanently.

That last evening before Misha had to leave, had that plane to catch that wouldn't bring him back anytime soon – if ever – they spent the night with each other one last time. It was rough and desperate, and Jensen still remembered how sore he had been the following day. It was the good kind of sore, though, the kind that reminded you of a night well spent. If his heart ached with the loss of Misha, then there was nothing he could do about that.

***

Then [ChiCon happened.](http://jensenacklesmishacollins.tumblr.com/post/52674024816/ive-seen-the-video-and-i-hate-it-he-looks-really-sad)

Known later to them as the convention where [their fall-out began.](http://jensenacklesmishacollins.tumblr.com/post/52678082142/i-still-dont-get-the-jensen-part-what-do-you-mean)

“How about a drink or two?” Misha asked him, standing in front of his hotel room in a blue t-shirt and jeans that hugged his hips all too tight.

“Yes, please,” Jensen groaned and grabbed his jacket. It had been a long day, and talking to Misha hadn't exactly gotten easier. Something was definitely off between them, and Jensen wasn't so sure any more if it was just character bleed alone.

Jared had said earlier that he wanted to stay in for the night, so it was just them. Jensen honestly didn't know if that was a good or a bad thing.

Things were, to say the least, awkward. So they holed up in a bar, in a booth in the corner, and didn't really have anything to talk about. And the one thing they had to talk about, they avoided like the plague.

Inevitably, though, they couldn't escape it any more.

“Dean hates Cas' guts now, huh?” Misha asked finally, after a long period of silence.

Jensen looked up from his glass of white wine – another thing that he only did with Misha, drink wine – and blinked. When their eyes met, there was the usual fire, that glimmer that always smoldered between them. But there was also a hint of sadness, and Jensen knew instinctively that Misha wasn't really talking about Dean and Cas.

Talking about Dean and Cas, however, was safe ground.

“Not exactly, no,” Jensen shook his head and took a sip.

Misha eyed him over the rim of his own wineglass and waited.

“But he feels like Cas left him alone, like every other damn person he's ever met or cared about, and he's hurt,” Jensen added wistfully. “He’s disappointed, if you will, although that's not necessarily Cas' fault alone.”

“Well. I'm sure that Dean will deal with it. It's not like he didn't manage it before Cas was around, right?” Misha challenged.

Jensen snorted. “I dunno if you noticed, but Cas had kind of a big impact on Dean's life.”

Misha was silent for a long minute, then he sighed. “Of course he had. Doesn't mean he knows just how big.”

“Pretty big, let me tell you. Nothing Dean can just shake off, no matter how much he tries.”

“But Dean does try to shake it off.”

“Yeah. It's not like he has any other choice, does he? He's lost one of the best friends he's ever had. Possibly more than that,” Jensen swallowed heavily as he realized what he just implied – and that it wasn't explicitly about Dean. He quickly backpedaled. “And Sam might have his assumptions, but he can't understand what that friendship meant to Dean.”

Misha's eyes turned big and even sadder at that, and he opened and closed his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately decided against it.

In the meantime Jensen emptied his glass of wine.

“Dean never told Cas that. That there could have been more.”

“Because it was just a thought. Nothing he'd seriously consider.”

“Too much trouble?” Misha asked bitterly, crossing the line that they had so cautiously avoided.

Jensen ignored it. “It doesn't matter now, anymore, does it? Cas is gone, for good, so that's how it's gonna be.”

It broke his heart to talk like that, but he couldn't change the situation. Season seven was well on its way, Misha would go back to L. A. after the con, and that was it for them. They couldn't exist in the real world, in the world of Hollywood and acting careers and public appearances and the fear of typecasting. Vancouver was safe ground, just as Dean and Cas always were.

***

Unsurprisingly, Jensen was left feeling lost and angry. Thank god for Jared being there, Jared was always there, but having Jared around was never the same as having Misha around. As soon as they fell back into their regular schedule of filming and acting, Misha missing was more obvious than ever.

Their arrangement, however unofficial it was, had always been practical - after long days spent shooting and re-shooting scenes that often ran into late at night or early in the morning, it was easy and convenient to know he could fall into bed with Misha afterwards. No questions asked. It was just what they did, and it was good.

But just like that, Misha was gone.

They didn't even talk about whether or not they should try to make long-distance work, because that would imply they were in a relationship, which they weren't. Not really. 

At least that was what Jensen told himself. 

Yet, it hurt like hell to let Misha go.

At first they talked on the phone every other day; then Jensen's schedule became too heavy, especially due to the loss of their third series regular, and spare time was few and far in between. The breaks between calls became increasingly longer until one day Jensen found himself staring at his phone, and saw that the last call he made to Misha's cell had been two weeks ago. Misha hadn't messaged or called in the meantime either, and Jensen missed him like hell - not just his voice on the phone, which would never be enough. In fact, hearing Misha and not getting to see him, touch him, kiss him, was almost more cruel - a taunt that made a harsh jab of pain jolt through Jensen every time.

So, instead of calling, Jensen locked the keypad of his phone, pocketed it and returned to re-shoot another scene with Jared.

Jared only watched him with a sympathetic look and didn't say a word. Jensen ignored him and tried to swallow down the lump in his throat.

***

Three months and one 'Ringer' episode later, Misha wrecked his Blackberry by throwing it straight against a wall.

Which, he realized, was the weirdest thing he had ever done. Misha was proud of his zen, of being calm and collected and at peace with himself and the universe; when he wasn't, he did some running and some yoga and was back to normal, but that somehow hadn’t worked this time. Misha wasn't the kind of guy to throw cell phones against walls in order to deal with frustration.

But staring at his phone day after day without so much as a text from Jensen had made his blood boil a bit more each day. The bracelet Jensen gave him right before hiatus started, brown leather with an angel pendant and, 'Always with you' engraved on its other side, seemed to mock him from where it lay on his bedside table. It had been sweet, seeing Jensen blush beet red as he handed it over, and Misha had worn it proudly at the convention in Rome that year.

But when he noticed that the last time Jensen had called had been exactly three months ago, Misha lost it.

“Fuck you, too, Ackles,” he had growled as he raised his hand.

The white Blackberry had hit the wall with a satisfying crash that echoed in Misha's too quiet, too big living room, and the subsequent fall to the floor left the screen shattered in pieces. His anger flared up one last time, and then Misha went out to get himself an iPhone. It felt like a much-needed fresh start, although Misha ended up kind of scared of himself and the things he would do because of how Jensen made him feel.

The first message that Misha sent to Jensen in three months contained the simple information that he sent to his whole contact list - his new cell phone number.

Jensen didn't write back.

***

Another three months later, news trickled in via his agent that the writers of SPN wanted to revive Castiel. Again.

Misha read the e-mail on his phone while he was grocery shopping, and didn't know if he should laugh or cry for a second. Instead, he stood in the middle of the aisle at his local organic food store and stared at his cell phone.

Because while it meant returning to the biggest role he had had in television so far, it also meant returning to Jensen. And whatever happened or hadn’t happened those last few months, that would still hurt.

 _Hey, man! heard youre coming back, congrats :))_ Jared texted him about ten minutes later.

Misha couldn't quite suppress his smile as he texted back, _Great huh? can't wait to get my shoots ruined by you again_

 _]:D_ Jared answered simply.

It took some time, but then Jared followed it up with, _You should probably talk to J tho. Hes to chickenshit to call u_

 _He doesnt talk to me, so why should I call him?_ Misha shot back automatically, not even second-guessing the text. Basically like he was a pouting little kid that someone had taken his favorite toy from. He rolled his eyes at himself, but the message was sent, the damage done.

Only a few moments later, his cell phone started ringing, Jared's caller ID popping up on the screen.

Misha didn't even get to say hello.

"I swear, you two are worse than kindergarteners," Jared groaned in lieu of a greeting, and then there was some static and the rustling of fabric on the phone, followed by a loud thump.

"Jared?" Misha frowned, holding the cell phone a few inches away from his ear.

"Uh..." another voice said, one Misha hadn't wanted to think about for a while now. "Not quite. Hey, Mish."

The pet name made something inside Misha both melt and burn him up from the inside. There was still a memory seared into his brain of having that word whispered tenderly into his ear during rainy Vancouver nights in drafty trailers. "Jen," he answered, not quite able to keep his shaking voice in check. He stopped in the middle of the aisle and set down his shopping basket filled with vegetables for that night’s stew.

Jensen huffed out a bitter laugh. "Jared just whacked me over the head with his phone and said something about us being worse than kindergarteners."

"Yeah, I... I heard that."

For a moment, neither of them said a word.

Then, Jensen cleared his throat. "So, Cas is coming back."

"Yes, he is."

"We haven't heard any details so far - do you know when you'll be back up here?"

"Not yet, no," Misha shook his head, despite Jensen being unable to see it. A goth kid walking by him shot him a confused glare, but Misha ignored him. "I'll let you know as soon as they tell me."

"I'll pick you up from the airport,” Jensen said flatly, like he forced himself to seem calm and failed miserably.

Jensen is an amazing actor, but he had never been able to fool Misha.

"You don't need to."

Another pause, then, "Yeah, well, I want to. Plus, you know... I think there are a few things we should talk about."

"We should," Misha croaks out, his voice shifting dangerously near Castiel territory. “And it's not something to talk about on the phone.”

***

When Jensen picked him up from the airport about a month later, Cliff trailing only a few steps behind, he hugged Misha. It was awkward as fuck, but a handshake would've been even worse.

They didn't say much, both stalling and waiting for the other one to start 'the talk' and instead chatting about the weather in L.A. versus Canada and other meaningless things. Misha caught Jensen stealing glimpses at him every so often, but didn't call him out on it.

They didn't get to talk, in fact, until they arrived at the apartment Jensen had lived in for the most part of season seven. Misha's was technically just down the hall, but he placed his suitcase in Jensen's nonetheless, intent on getting this conversation over with.

Jensen cleared his throat and said tentatively, "Listen, I don't want this to be awkward."

Which Misha had only been able to laugh at, quick and sarcastic, but he couldn't look into Jensen's eyes.

"Hey," Jensen said, and Misha could practically hear the frown in his tone. "Will you look at me Mish?"

And when their eyes met, Misha almost fell into a sea of big, pleading, moss-green eyes. The bitterness clenching his chest immediately eased up, but still left him with a sour taste. He managed to hold Jensen's gaze, then nodded.

"We're professionals, right?"

That got a lopsided grin out of Misha. "Most of the time. Well, we are, Jared isn't."

Jensen chuckled softly, before he turned serious again, a forlorn look on his face. "So we're gonna get over this and be mature about it."

"Didn't have any other intention."

"You know," Jensen sighed, "I'd say 'No hard feelings' but it's probably too soon."

Misha only confirmed with another nod. "As long as we get Dean and Cas back on track, I'm good."

"Okay, then," and for the first time since they had met at the airport, Jensen smiled genuinely.

Which reminded Misha. "One more thing, though."

"Yes?"

"Let's not... fall back into old habits. I don't want this to get messy again."

Jensen snorted, then laughed softly - a sound so familiar and warm that it made a shiver run down Misha's spine. One of those effects only Jensen ever had on him.

"You mean, we should learn from our mistakes and I don’t get to tell you 'I told you so' for fucking it up?" he asked bitterly.

"I didn't say you fucked it up," Misha was quick to defend. "I’d say it’s the opposite, but let's not dwell on whose fault it was. There's always two parts to the story, and I sure as hell won't say that I'm innocent. And as long as we can make this work again, I'm good."

"Me too," Jensen admitted, and now he was the one to look down at the floor. "We were friends before, right? I wanna get back to that."

"Friends," Misha said thoughtfully, but couldn't help keeping a smile from his lips. Damn right, they were friends. "Just... without benefits this time."  
"Exactly."

Misha took a step forward and held out his hand to Jensen. After a quick blink, Jensen grabbed it firmly, his strong, calloused fingers wrapping around Misha's longer, more delicate ones.

In hindsight, the smile Misha gave Jensen back then was all kinds of fake, covering up his sadness pretty well. He was still hurt, still vulnerable. He felt pathetic.

**\--- NOW ---**

When Misha wakes up in the middle of the night, it's with Jensen's back to him and his arm wrapped around the other man's waist. Jensen's hair is mussed from sleeping on his side and smells like hair gel and the remains of his shampoo, and that combination is so familiar that it makes Misha smile. He buries his nose in the light brown strands and pulls Jensen closer into the curve of his body, entangling their feet.

Jensen sighs in his sleep, then moans.

Misha isn't a teenager any more, but that sound reduces his recovery time to zero.

The bottle of lube is still on the bedside table, and Misha grabs it without hesitation. When he lets go of Jensen's waist, the other man shifts and opens his legs to instinctively steady himself. Misha grins against the warm skin of Jensen's neck and trails his fingers down to the crack of his ass, slipping his lubed finger into Jensen's entrance.

Jensen wakes with a moan, then laughs. “You could've said something, you know,” he mumbles into his pillow.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Misha chuckles and shoves a second finger in, preparing Jensen for a round of slow, passionate sex. God, he loves to top. It's almost as good as bottoming.

“That's what I call 'getting it out of our system',” Misha chuckles afterwards, when Jensen lies spent and with a dazed grin on his face in front of him, come streaking his belly.

**\--- THEN ---**

The rest of season seven practically filmed itself.

Just like Dean and Cas, Jensen and Misha had a lot of air to clear between them. There was history to work through, and it wasn't any easier for them than it was for the hunter and his angel, but in the end, they came through. Neither one of them had a hard time displaying the feelings they had bottled up inside them onscreen, and it was an outlet for all the tension, to some extent.

“I'd rather have you, cursed or not,” Dean told Cas in the season finale.

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I detect a note of forgiveness,” Castiel answered, a rare smile tugging at his lips..

Misha realized two things at the same time.

Dean and Castiel would be fine – one day, no matter how. They would be fine. Because they were friends, and friends worked through the good and the bad times and always found their way back to each other.

He and Jensen were the same, and he, too, had detected a note of forgiveness lately. Long hours of filming and having to deal with each other did that to you.

In silent understanding, they hugged quickly when the scene was wrapped, and Misha's whispered “Thank God” against Jensen's neck pretty much summed it up perfectly.

Still, hiatus was much needed and much appreciated, but at least most of the tension was gone.

***

Season eight started out with a premise neither of them had expected.

Closing the gates of hell, purgatory, Castiel's mysterious return, and a whole lot of angels.

There was a lot of fun stuff to work with, especially with the addition of Ty Olsson, whom Jensen hit it off with pretty much immediately. Needless to say, Jensen loved his purgatory scenes and his storyline as a whole.

The only downside, if it could be called that, was that it was a lot of time spent with Misha, since Jared still had the bonus of being a new father and having a lighter workload.

And Misha, with his scruff and his dirty mental-patient-in-a-trenchcoat costume, was a test for Jensen's nerves. That and 'Hunteri Heroici', the episode right before Misha was away for another couple of weeks. Since Dean had opened up increasingly to his best friend this season, it wasn't easy for Jensen to keep his distance. Not when Castiel sat barely two feet away from him and told Dean about his feelings.

There was that underlying bond, that connection they always had, and it flared up with renewed power. It pulled Jensen to Misha, made him pine for things he hadn’t had since Misha left at the beginning of season 7. Made him crave things he thought he was be over with. Like touching Misha whenever he wanted to, kissing him whenever he wanted to, being himself without having to keep in check how he acted around Misha all the time. That last one became especially exhausting after a while.

And soon Jensen began to realize something else. Misha reacted to him in a way he never had before.

When Jensen played Dean flirty and easy-going, Misha would drop right into that behavior with him. The flirting back happened mostly when they were alone or the camera wasn't rolling, and it stunned Jensen when Misha winked at him for the first time in a long while.

It was relieving and scary all at once, at least for Jensen.

Which didn't mean that they didn't have fun during filming. They barely got through the crypt scene without cracking up, where everyone knew just how much of a love confession it was on Dean's part.

It was for Jensen too, in a way. Jensen loved Misha - for his wicked sense of humor, for the way he played into Jensen's jokes or shot them right back at him in a way that would ruin Jensen's reputation on set one of these days. The crew saw him all too often gaping speechlessly at Misha.

'Baby daddy' and 'Say you love me' jokes aside, Jensen also had a few flashbacks of blowing Misha in that exact position to deal with. Cue the ['I need a popsicle now.'](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Xlste6kFmk&feature=share&list=FLJY_9hsmgKUSQz84ou1v00Q) and Misha's leer and wink at him. They didn't act on the tension back then, and God knows how they managed.

Keeping his distance became harder each day, until Jensen found himself at the lunch table, sitting between Jared and Misha and only noticing half-way through lunch that he didn't mind sharing that personal bubble with either of them. Although he maybe enjoyed it for different reasons. 

He and Misha started to get close again, and not just because of Dean and Cas.

Which was kind of bothering Jensen. It fucked with his head.

When given an evening that Jared spent at home with his family, they would end up in Jensen's trailer, watching a movie and drinking beer, just like back in the day. They would sit in their respective corners of the couch, their legs tangled in the middle, as they had done often enough when their situation was different.

They even kept their hands to themselves, hard as it was.

No matter how many glances Misha kept throwing him from the corner of his eye. No matter how often Misha's foot rubbed against Jensen's shin, seemingly random but obviously on purpose. No matter how much Jensen's hand itched to touch Misha.

No matter the cost, they wouldn't let it get messy again.

**\--- NOW ---**

“Jesus, you look freshly fucked,” Jensen grins lazily the morning after.

Puffy eyes blink up at him, brown hair tangled and sticking out adorably in all directions.

“Jen. No sex talk. It's distracting,” Misha growls out, his voice rough from sleep and yeah, that's not really helping with Jensen's morning wood.

Jensen bites the inside of his cheek. It's not easy to maintain a straight face when really all he wants to do is yank the comforter down and fuck Misha into next Sunday.

“I'm hungry,” Misha announces. With surprising vigor, he rolls out of bed and picks his discarded pair of jeans off the floor, pulling them on and reaching for yesterday's undershirt. “You want anything for breakfast?” he asks as if that's the most important question now.

“Coffee would be great,” Jensen answers nonetheless.

“Eggs, bacon? Whatever they have for breakfast in Italy?”

Jensen grins again. “Surprise me.”

Misha quickly slips out of the room quietly, still barefooted and without sparing a glance at the mirror to brush his hair. Well. Not that Jensen doesn't dig the freshly-fucked-look, especially on Misha, but there's only so far they can go without someone noticing.

And this time, it's even justified to assume they spent the night together.

Jensen could care less, though, so he rolls around and naps the few minutes it takes Misha to return away.

[The picture](https://twitter.com/sebroche/status/333870337269846016/photo/1) hits twitter not five minutes later, thanks to Sebastian. Misha notices when his phone chirps sometime during their second pancake in bed.

Jensen face palms, but laughs. Misha just raises an eyebrow, then shakes his head.

It's not like they both don't know what kind of gossip the picture’s starting. Sure, they could talk to Seb to get him to take it down, but the damage is done and the internet doesn't forget, not even two seconds after posting. So, well, let the rest of the world think what it wants, Jensen thinks, still too amused to worry.

In comfortable silence, they finish having breakfast in bed – Misha still in only his old jeans and black t-shirt, Jensen wearing nothing – and purposefully avoid the topic that hangs between them.

“So,” Jensen starts eventually, then wipes his mouth with a napkin. “The elephant.”

“The elephant?”

“Yeah, you know the... thing,” Jensen gestures with his hand in a wide swipe, back and forth between them.

“In the room. The elephant in the room,” Misha combines, his eyes sparkling. “We should probably talk about it, yes.”

Jensen nods. “So, what are we going to do in season nine? Old habits or friends?”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don't even know, man,” Jensen sighs and looks down at his lap, avoiding Misha's eyes. “But considering where old habits took us the last time around...”

Misha huffs in agreement. “I'd say friends. I know it's gonna be awkward at times, but we've been through more than that, haven't we?”

“We have,” Jensen confirms and stares at Misha. There's so much more to this, but Jensen doesn't dare say it. “And just for the record: You're saying getting it out of our system worked?”

Misha shrugs. “Well, yes. Doesn't mean that I...never mind.”

Tilting his head, Jensen watches him carefully. “How about one last round? Better safe than sorry,” he suggests, one edge of his lips tugging upwards. It's only half a joke.

At which Misha starts laughing genuinely, then accepts with a smirk and a short nod.

And so they make the best of the remaining hour before check-out. Misha takes his time with Jensen, spreads him out on the bed and nips at his hipbones, at his abs, at his nipples, caresses his body with his tongue and lips and hands until Jensen shivers all over and begs him to fuck him. 

So Misha flips him around to slide his cock into Jensen's ass, the lube from yesterday still easing the way, then straddles and sits down on his upper thighs. Jensen's legs get pushed together by Misha's calves at his side, creating tightness that wrings a desperate, delicious moan out of Misha.

This position is easily one of Jensen's favorites. It's not like he's into the whole dominance and power play thing, but when Misha takes him like that, restricts his movements and has him at his mercy, he can appreciate it. There's also the sinful feeling of being filled by Misha's cock, rubbing over his prostate with every move while Jensen's own dick is helplessly trapped between his belly and the mattress. Truth is, Jensen loves the feeling of arousal and deep relaxation pumping through his veins at every thrust, with Misha's hands tracking up and down his spine, caressing the little ridges and massaging the taut muscles. All in all, it's pretty damn awesome.

Misha makes it slow and sweet for them, fucks Jensen into the mattress with gentle, steady thrusts. He savors it, too, even stops Jensen one time when he's about to come. The kisses they trade over Jensen's shoulder are nothing like the frantic ones from last night – it's like they both know that they’re going to drown, but instead of just letting it happen, they‘re both taking as many lungfuls of air as possible.

The realization hits Jensen hard. His libido is starting to wear down, his sexual needs long fulfilled before he even started round three with Misha. Jensen does still want him, that much is clear, but not only in the physical way anymore. 

Jensen wants to be close to him, feel him beside, underneath, on top and all around himself, and have this all day, every day.

But they're not doing that anymore.

 _Friends_ , Misha said, and it's probably better anyway.

So Jensen takes what he can get, namely Misha panting and gasping his name, and when they both collapse onto the bed – spent and happy – afterwards, it's Misha who starts the conversation.

“Friends from here on out?” he asks.

Jensen can't deal with talking about it, so instead of answering, he leans over and kisses Misha deeply and extensively until Misha flicks his tongue repeatedly against his bottom lip, his moan muffled against Jensen's lips.

They break apart, both a mental and physical mess. Jensen places one last peck on Misha's lips before he answers quietly, “Friends from here on out,” with regret.

They don't see each other for another two months, until the filming of season nine starts.

***

Their reunion on set is interrupted sooner than they expected, ten minutes after Misha arrived, by none other than Jeremy Carver himself. "Guys, a minute?" Jeremy says and waves them towards the production building, where he has a small office. 

Beside him, Misha looks mildly confused, and Jensen frowns on principle. Jared is nowhere to be seen.

"What about Jared?"

"This is something only you two need to know,” Jeremy winks.

They walk straight into the plain and functional room where Robbie Thompson is already waiting. He greets them with a quick wave as Jensen raises an eyebrow in surprise and opens his mouth to ask, but Misha beats him to it.

"What are you two even doing up here in Vancouver?" Misha squints at their show runner.

Jeremy takes a seat at his desk and folds his hands in front of him. "We have to check up on a few things on set. And we've got a plan for season nine that we need to run by you."

Jensen nods and flops down on the chair beside Robbie. So it's gonna be one of those discussions. "Are we doing another alternate universe episode where we play ourselves?"

Robbie chuckles, but shakes his head.

Jeremy smirks. "No, this time we need you to kiss."

While Jensen is still busy staring at Jeremy and trying to sort out his thoughts, Misha leans against the back of Jensen's chair, his fingers brushing along Jensen's shoulders. The touch is grounding, keeps Jensen in reality. "Okay, this sounds like a story we need to hear from the beginning," Misha's amused voice says from above him.

"Long story short... As pointed out by numerous sources and the fans, Dean and Cas do share a special bond, and we want to dive into that during the upcoming season," Jeremy explains.

"Dive in how?" Jensen chases skeptical. "Romantically?”

“Yes, romantically.”

“Like a kiss, a sex scene?" Jensen adds.

Jeremy shakes his head. "Not a sex scene. Just one on-screen kiss that will be one of the cliffhangers for season ten. Or, you know, if we don't get renewed, as an end for the final episode."

"Seriously?" Misha says into the silence that falls over the room. "And how are we going to get to that point? I mean, these guys have issues. Like, really serious issues."

"And the show has never been about that," Jensen adds concerned. "Wasn't that always the point? We're 'not that kind of show'?"

"That's why we brought you here," Robbie steps in, and Jensen sees from the corner of his eyes that Misha turns to him, too. "It has never been about that, and it won't ever be. And that's okay. It's just a romantic subplot. It's simply going to play into the overall story arc of the fallen angels and Castiel dealing with being human."

"If you've already decided it, why are you even talking to us now?" Jensen snaps, feeling annoyed for Dean's sake. Yeah, Dean had his fair share of scenes adding to his sexual confusion, but resolving it just like that, no big deal?

"First off, we needed to make sure that you two are comfortable enough to kiss each other on screen. You are, right?" Jeremy fixes them with a look that is way too amused, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Yeah," Jensen shrugs and notices that Misha answers accordingly at the same time. Jensen looks up over his shoulder, and they shoot a quick smile at each other. Doesn't mean it won't be weird, but kissing Misha has never been a problem for Jensen.

“Good. And the reason we're telling you now is because we're pulling a J. K. Rowling on this," Jeremy grins again.

"A what?" Jensen raises both eyebrows in confusion.

"Basically, you two know that Dean and Castiel will fall in love with each other, the rest of the crew and the cast don't – just like Rowling did with Alan Rickman for his role as Professor Snape and how she told him about his love for Lily Potter,” Robbie explains.

Jeremy nods and takes it from there. “It's up to you to translate the relationship for viewing - ideally, of course, the transition is so fluid that it doesn't register at first. I know you guys can do that. You can also tease Jared for the rest of the season about knowing something he doesn't, if that helps."

Misha smirks, "Believe me, it does."

"What do you want the transition to look like?" Jensen adds, still on the fence about the plan, "I mean, it's gotta be believable. And like Misha said, those guys have major issues to work through. The fans are gonna tear us a new one if this isn't done well."

"Honestly?" Jeremy raises an eyebrow. "Some section of the viewers are always going to tear us a new one, no matter what and how we do it. Sure, there's gonna be people who are pissed, and some who will be disappointed. I'm sure we'll lose viewers. But I went over this with the network execs and they think it's worth it to try and gain a new circle of viewers, and they've been trying forever to bring more diversity to the show."

"So, what, Dean is gay now?" Jensen throws in, tries to keep his voice level and calm but obviously failing to contain his irritation.

"No, he isn't. If anything, he's bisexual, even though he'd never admit it openly. And we'll make a point of showing that he is still into women. Cas might get a bit jealous," Jeremy clarifies with a mischievous smirk. “And we have a similar scene vice-versa. Cas is human now, so there will be sex.”

"Oh," Misha says as if he just figured it out.

Jensen doesn't find the time to ask him what he’s figured.

"The scripts will change from now on, you'll see. It's only little changes, but you'll pick up on them. We trust you to display it in a way that makes the most sense for Dean and Cas. You know these two better than we do, sometimes," Jeremy laughs. "Don't worry, it's still not a telenovela. We'll keep that in mind."

Robbie agrees with a nod and watches them in anticipation. Jensen seeks out Misha's gaze and raises his eyebrows when their eyes meet.

Misha nods. "I think we can make it work."

"If it makes sense in context," Jensen says, still suspicious.

***

"I feel like I just sold my soul," Jensen comments dryly as soon as they're on their own again.

Misha just cackles as he walks beside him. "Don't worry, they'll figure it out. They always say we've got chemistry, and it's true, isn't it?" He fixes Jensen with a mischievous, but firm look, and Jensen can't help but smile. "So, what could possibly go wrong?" Misha asks.

"Think conventions, Mish," Jensen shakes his head, laughs with Misha despite himself.

They're good. Really, they are.

At least that's what Jensen tells himself when he looks over to meet Misha's sparkling blue eyes. Jensen's gaze is immediately drawn to Misha's full, reddened lips, and he still remembers what it feels like to kiss them.

But they're friends.

And it's good.

So Jensen looks to the side, avoids Misha's look. “So what are we gonna tell them at ComicCon?” Jensen asks.

“Nothing they haven't already guessed or written a novel-length essay about,” Misha shrugs. “Just that Dean will get some action again and Cas will finally have sex, and then they'll all get distracted and drift off into their regular fit about any female touching one of their boys.”

“And you're gonna watch the mayhem online,” Jensen concludes, shaking his head.

“The art of trolling, my friend,” Misha smirks.

***

Season nine starts off innocently enough, and being constantly around Jensen isn't half as weird as Misha expected it to be.

Of course, there are still thoughts drifting in and out of his head, of hotel rooms in Rome and a night spent supposedly getting rid of the unresolved sexual tension between them. It's not easy to deal with, but at least neither him nor Jensen pretend it didn't ever happen. It's not like Jared or the rest of the crew don't know that something happened between them. And that it won't be a problem as long as they stay professional about it.

Filming their reunion had been a lot of fun, because Jensen decided to be an ass and order 'big slabs of meat' at the grocery store Castiel was stuck working at. Misha laughed so hysterically he cried, much to Jeannie's annoyance, because she had to re-do his make-up every ten minutes. Only after their director for the episode ended up shouting at Misha because they were running out of time did Jensen apologize and finally do the scene right.

So, yeah, things are going pretty well between them.

It's also kind of sweet to see Dean shining through Jensen at the end of a day. Jensen tends to grumble at him the way Dean does at Castiel when he's tired of teaching him how to shoot. Or when he's annoyed that Cas folds his laundry, because he sure as hell wouldn't do that, but it's not like he can begrudge him of it, either.

Misha sits on the steps of his trailer, stirring his coffee and blinking idly into the blinding sun. It's rare enough in Vancouver and a nice change from the usual, drizzling rain.

It's also the end of September and Misha is grateful that Cas finally got some new clothes this season. The trenchcoat, suit and button-down shirt combination would've been hell at temperatures like these, he knows that from experience. Dressed the way he is now – in Dean's hand-me-downs, a faded pair of jeans with holes at the knees, black undershirt and plaid button-down hanging loosely from his shoulders – it's downright bearable.

Boots appear in his field of vision, and when Misha looks up, he finds Jensen standing in front of him, a paper cup filled with coffee in his hand. “Looking good,” Jensen comments with one edge of his lips lifting in a smirk. “Dean's?”

“Actually, yes,” Misha squints into the sun. “Gotta say, the guy knows what's comfortable.”

Jensen chuckles, then sits down on the stairs beside him. It's a tight fit, so they end up with their thighs and knees pressed against each other's. Not that it’s a problem. Misha’s never minded before and he doesn’t mind now.

“You know, it's kind of hot,” Jensen adds quieter and grins widely.

“Seeing me in your clothes or Dean seeing Cas in his clothes?”

“Both, I guess.”

Misha just shoots him a tentative grin and shakes his head. “Dean Winchester is a very shallow man.”

Jensen laughs, loud and unabashed, and something warm curls up in Misha's chest at the sound.

***

Later when they film the scene of Castiel exiting the bathroom after a shower, it's the first time that Misha actively notices Jensen making an attempt at implementing what Jeremy said.

Sure, there's always been subtext and lengthy looks, 'Thelma and Louise' and 'Last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid'. They practically made their slash-ship a slash-ship without even trying. Now though, it's time to go ahead and provoke these scenes consciously.

It's not as easy as it sounds, but Jensen is known for always providing great reaction shots, and this time is no different.

When Misha closes the door behind himself, hair still damp and droplets of water trickling down his neck, Jensen gapes at him for a short second. Then he swallows, eyes raking quickly down his body, flicking back to his eyes.

“Cas,” he rasps, and that's all Dean. “Everything fit?”

“It doesn't fit as well in some places-” Castiel complains and pulls at his waist, where the shirt is too wide for his slender figure, “- which was to be expected. Otherwise, it's comfortable.”

Castiel meets Dean's eyes, to find him looking at Cas softly and with a tiny, fond smile on his lips.

“Great. Well, you can wear that until we've got the time for a run to the thrift shop. I've got some spares.”

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate your generosity.”

“Hey, I'm only doing this because you'd look ridiculous in Sam's clothes.”

That gets a huff and the hint of a smile out of Castiel. “Probably, yes.”

“And you'll be on laundry duty for the next week. Gotta learn how to be a responsible adult,” Dean chuckles.

The heaviness of the scene, the fact that Cas needs clothes now that he's fallen, all of that gets covered by the light tone in Dean's voice, by the easy banter between them.

When Dean stalks off camera, Castiel looks after him. A bit forlorn and lost in thought, but altogether feeling a bit better.

Ever since it's been cleared up between them who truly was the driving force behind the fall of the angels, it's gotten better. It's far from perfect, but Cas starts to feel like this could be a new home, a fresh start for him.

Misha is abruptly thrown out of Castiel's headspace by Bob's yelled “Cut!”.

***

Those scenes get lengthier and more suggestive over the course of the following weeks, although they're still trying to be subtle – Dean handing Cas a beer, sitting on the hood of the Impala with Sam after a hunt, and maybe looking at each other just a bit too long. Sam even starts to watch them more closely, and Jensen knows that's mostly just Jared wondering.

When Cas hooks up with a female hunter for the first time after April, the reaper, Dean isn't half as cool with it as the last time. It doesn't matter that she was the one to approach Castiel. Despite him being a basket case, he's still easy on the eyes, so Dean gets it, or so he tells himself. What he doesn't get is the reaction this results in.

He's all repressed rage when Cas picks her up at the bar where they're doing research for their case and takes her to the motel they're staying at. Cas has his own room, at least there's that, but it's directly next to Dean's and Sam's, and Dean punches his pillow into shape more than once, unable to sleep with the moans coming through the thin walls from next door.

As it turns out, it was just a one night stand for her, at least without an attempt to kill him, but Castiel still gets his heart broken in the process, because inexperienced ex-angel that he is, he thought there would be more.

“Women,” Dean tsks smugly when he places a glass of whiskey in front of Castiel the day after, back home in their bunker after the monster of the week is dealt with. “Seems like you don't-”

“Dean, just, leave me be, okay?” Castiel grumbles, then throws his drink back in one go before he leaves for his room.

“Jesus, touchy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

But he starts to treat Castiel differently from then on, mostly because he doesn't want to go through that desperate feeling of being unable to do anything about his discomfort again. When Castiel shows up the next morning, hungover as hell, Dean experiences a very unwanted flashback to another version of the angel he saw in 2014, and decides that he really needs to help Castiel through this without Tylenol and whiskey. In an attempt to be a better role model, Dean even starts to drink less, and carefully keeps any medication away from Castiel. 

When Castiel mentions for the first time that he got hit on by a guy, Dean perks up and tells him it's alright.

Castiel doesn't understand why that needed to be said, because humans were always humans to him. He never separated his attraction, now that he's aware of it, by gender.

***

“Where's Cas?” asks Dean as he enters the kitchen, grocery bags in hand.

Kevin shrugs, taking a cup of yoghurt from the fridge. “Out?”

With a frown, Dean sets down the six-pack of beer on the counter. “What do you mean, out?”

“Well, he said he needed some fresh air and headed out.”

“And you didn't stop him?” Dean groans, anger welling up in his chest.

“Why would I?”

“Because, if I remember last week's encounter with [Malachi](http://www.spoilertv.com/2013/10/supernatural-episode-909-title-revealed.html?m=1)correctly, the other angels are all looking for him, waiting to get their revenge? And now they know which state they have to look for him in?” Dean answers sarcastically, then pulls out his cell phone. No new messages. “How long has he been gone?”

“Um,” Kevin stutters, takes a look at his wrist watch. “An hour probably? He left after Sam went for his run. I dunno, I was playing Skyrim. Might have lost track of time.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “And you didn't care enough to ask where he was going?”

“Am I his babysitter? I don't know if you noticed, Dean, but last time I tried to tell him something, he all but punched me. I've learned to respect the guy,” Kevin snaps.

“Teenagers,” Dean grumbles, unlocking his phone and waving it in the general direction of the groceries. “Put that in the fridge, would you?”

Dean rubs his forehead with one hand, then covers his eyes for a second before flipping to Castiel's contact on his phone. With Kevin still working in the background, he leans heavily against the kitchen table, waits for the signal to come through and for Castiel to pick up.

“Hello, you reached the voicemail of – _why are you making me do this again, Sam?_ \- please leave a message after the beep.”

“Cas, it's Dean. Answer your damn phone.”

Dean ends the call, lets the cell drop down onto the kitchen table and sighs deeply.

“I'm sure he isn't far,” Kevin says.

His phone starts ringing before Dean can snap back at Kevin. Castiel's caller ID pops up.

“Cas? Where the-”

“Hello, there, _Dean_ ,” a way too smug voice answers. Dean's face crumbles when he realizess that he's not talking to Castiel.

“Who are you?” he demands ina deep, threatening growl into the speaker.

“Haniel,” the voice on the phone answers with a sneer.

Kevin, having noticed from the sidelines what was going on, quickly waves Dean into the living room.

“Where's Cas?” Dean asks, chasing him and quickly putting the phone on speaker so Kevin can hook it up to his laptop.

“Oh, your precious former angel is right here,” Haniel sneers, “I hope you can forgive me for not being able to put him on the phone right now. He can't exactly speak, you see.”

Dean grinds his teeth, eyes fixed on Kevin's laptop where the prophet types in code after code, tracking the signal. “What have you done to him?” Dean asks to buy them some time.

“The question is, what won’t we do to him?” Haniel hums, pleased. “As you well know, we have a bone to pick with him.”

“Listen, it was Metatron who-”

“Spare the speech, Dean. We don't believe the lie you and Castiel made up for us to believe.”

“It's the truth, take it or leave it,” Dean answers, trying not to sound too desperate.

Kevin's screen is loading, and Dean needs time, just a little more. He desperately wracks his brain for another question, but Haniel helps involuntarily.

“I don't really care at this point, to be honest. All I know is that the one who's responsible for all of us being thrown out of our home and who forced us to live here on earth among you mud monkeys,” Haniel spits out, “is right here, at my mercy. I like that part of being human, you-”

“Would you just listen for a second?” Dean interrupts him loudly, anger welling up inside of him. “It wasn't his fault, he's been betrayed! I swear, if you even touch him-”

Kevin's laptop signals that the GPS trace was successful.

“- I will break every bone in your body,” Dean growls deeply. “I like _that_ part of being human, too.”

“Oh, Dean, you're exactly how they said you’d be,” Haniel chuckles smugly, and Dean can almost see the faceless person on the other side of the call shake his head.

Dean wants to scream, wants to climb the walls, wants to punch Haniel in the face. He slams his fist down on the table, which makes Kevin flinch.

“Stop this now, and let us talk about it. Seriously.” Dean tries to sound calm and not like panic is slowly but surely making him desperate.

“I'm done talking.”

“Then why did you even bother calling me back?”

“Oh, that was just for you. You, the one who's ruined Heaven's plans ever since he fell for Azazael's trick and went to Hell. Also, I figured that Castiel here-” he pauses, and Jensen knows that in a cut-away shot, he's pulling at Cas' hair, tilting his head back, and they'll edit in a muffled protest later, “would rather enjoy seeing me talking to you about how I'm going to have my revenge.”

“No, don't-”

“Malachi sends his regards. Goodbye, Dean.”

Dean looks at the phone, speechless and gaping, before he slams it down onto the table without caring that it might break. “You got the signal?”

“Yes, it's not far away. A couple of acres of forest, and I've got the exact coordinates. Seems like the angels haven't found out how to turn off the GPS in their new phones just yet,” Kevin shrugs in amusement.

“Okay,” Dean says and pulls out his Colt 1911, checking the magazine. “Since Sam is still on his run, you and I will do this.”

The kid had had a couple shooting lessons that he hadn't been too bad in, and it's about time he gets some experience in the field. Dean scribbles down a note for Sam, telling him about the recent change of events. Kevin is as good a backup as anyone, and this can't wait. Who knows what they'll do to Castiel in the meantime?

***

They won't film the next scene until two days later, since it'll be out in the woods, and it's going to be a long scene to shoot. Castiel will be battered and bruised by the end of it, barely lucid and covered in wounds that are meant to cause pain, not to kill. Of course the other fallen angels would've gone further sooner or later, but luckily, Dean and Kevin bust their little meeting just at the right time. Kevin gets his first-ever gunshot wound in that fight.

So Osric hurries off to Jeannie in the make-up trailer, where Misha has already sat for an hour, being prepared with lots of cut wounds, a split lip, and a swollen, dark purple eye.

“Wow, you look like shit,” Jensen comments the moment Misha appears, but only gets a lopsided smirk from him.

“Yeah, I know. Also, you try laughing with an inch of make-up and prosthetics on your face,” he chuckles.

“I know, I know,” Jensen sighs.

They have a few minutes for coffee, waiting for the guys to set up the new stage and for Osric to finish up in make-up. In the end, they're sitting on the stairs of the bunker in companionable silence, disposable paper cups in hand.

Jensen knows the upcoming scene will be crucial – not only from an acting point of view, but also from the Dean-and-Castiel point of view. Yes, Dean cares about Cas, but the fight scene in two days will show that Dean is willing to wreak havoc for his best friend.

“Don't worry, that scene will turn out to be awesome,” Misha smiles from the side, as if he'd read Jensen's thoughts.

***

When they stumble into the bunker, Castiel's arm around Dean's shoulders, Sam is back in the main room.

“Jeez, what happened? Couldn't you wait for me?” he asks angrily, hurrying towards them.

“Not really, no, but we made it out pretty good on our own,” Dean grunts and shifts Castiel's weight, who is barely able to support himself at this point.

That's when Kevin enters the scene, too, and closes the door behind him with his left hand, clutching his right arm to his body. His sleeve is stained with a deep red, bloody spot.

Sam splutters, “Pretty good? You call that 'pretty good'? Kevin, have you been _shot_?”

“Kind of,” Kevin answers, teeth clenched to cover the pain he's in.

“Yeah, speaking of that,” Dean says, pulls Castiel's arm tighter around his shoulder to stabilize him. “Take care of him, please, and bring me the first aid kit in Cas' room. And get some water boiling.”

Sam steps towards Kevin, peeling off his jacket to take a look at the wound. However, Dean doesn't have time for that now. He pulls Cas towards the stairs.

“Dean,” Cas says weakly from somewhere beside him. “Dean, I can't...”

“Can't what?”

“The stairs,” Castiel coughs, blood dripping from his nose.

“Okay, hold on there,” Dean nods, considering for a moment how to do this, then slipping in front of Cas and going on one knee. “On my back, hold onto my shoulders. Can you do that?”

“I think so,” and at the next moment, the heavy weight settles on Dean's back. With a groan, he lifts them up and carefully maneuvers down the stairs towards the hallway.

“Cut!” Bob yells right then.

“Fuck, you're heavy,” Jensen complains when he lets Misha back down.

Misha chuckles. “As if you didn't know that before.”

Jensen tries to cover the sudden twinge at the memory of fucking Misha against the wall with a grin. “Yeah, I do.”

“Okay,” Bob interrupts them. “So that was great, now, once again, then close-up time for all of you. Jared, behave. We don't want Misha's fake blood to dry up too much.”

Jared only grins, and Jensen tries hard during the following hour to not crack up too often himself, even if he's off camera.

It's the usual, with the chemistry that has worked ever since season four, and it's just natural to fall back into that. It's Jared fooling around, Misha laughing with tears in his eyes, and Jensen with the camera behind him, trying desperately not to start giggling himself. Osric watches from the sideline with a huge grin.

Jensen is glad that they're okay, that everything is the way it is. Because the upcoming scene between Dean and Cas is a key scene in their current season, and although Jensen has no doubt that they're going to nail it, it's crucial that they do it the way it's supposed to be done.

So when Jared is sent off set by Bob because Cas' room is a small enough set as it is and because they wouldn't get through it with him goofing around, Jensen only smiles at Misha and nods.

Misha's smile in return is a bit hesitant, but he nods, too.

***

Dean dunks a washcloth into warm water and gently removes the blood and grime from Castiel's skin in silence. There are deep cuts and dark blue bruises peppered all over his arms and torso, but only two of them appear to be bad enough to need stitches. If Ezekiel would still be around, he could've healed him, but Dean is not really sorry about that not being possible after what Ezekiel had done before Sam killed him.

Castiel looks miserable, but Dean is angry and he deserves an explanation for what happened. Right now though, Dean needs to concentrate, and that's the only reason he doesn't pester his friend for answers.

Castiel's eyes follow every move of his hands, and he helps Dean by moving his limbs in the direction Dean silently motions him to do so and shakes his head no when Dean points at his legs with a raised eyebrow.

No wounds there. They didn't get that far.

Dean sighs and reaches for the whiskey, dousing the cut on Castiel's shoulder. Castiel winces, but that was to be expected, and Dean is only partly sympathetic. Mostly, he's torn between being angry at Cas for running off and being happy that at least he got his friend back alive and in one piece.

“What were you even thinking?” Dean grumbles somewhere along the way, when he can't wait for Castiel to finally open his mouth and tell him, and fixes him with a frown.

Castiel hesitates, then answers meekly without meeting Dean's gaze, “Honestly, I felt confined in this bunker. It is quite pleasant to live here, but I... I needed to get out. I've been sitting here for the last few weeks and it's-”

“Yeah, I get it, Cas, cabin fever,” Dean rolls his eyes as he reaches for the dental floss and needle. “But you just... you can't just leave like that. I didn't think I needed to tell you that.”

“I'm sorry,” Castiel replies, and this time he's looking at Dean pleadingly. “I'm really sorry. I should have known better. But it's-” he trails off, purses his lips.

“It's what?” Dean asks as he focuses back on the wound and makes the first stitch.

Castiel flinches and hisses in pain.

“It won't take long,” Dean reassures him and continues. It's another few moments of working in silence, until Dean finishes the four necessary stitches and pours whiskey over the cut once again.

Castiel doesn't say a word all throughout.

Only when Dean steps around the bed so he has better access to the cut on Castiel's left lower arm, does Castiel finally say, “I'm sorry to tell you this, but I... I also lost my duffel bag and some clothes that were in it when they captured me. It's somewhere in the woods. I don't think we'll be able to find it again.”

At that, Dean does a double take, then sits down slowly on the edge of the bed. A long look into Castiel's squinting, too blue eyes, and he nods, having figured it out.

“You were running away, weren't you?” Dean asks quietly, still unsure of how to deal with this but not letting it show.

“I-” Castiel begins, then shuts his mouth again. “Yes, I was,” he says eventually.

“Why? Haven't you learned anything from-” Dean starts loudly.

“Dean,” Castiel interrupts him harshly. “What I have learned, from this experience more than any other, is that no one around me is safe.”

“So, what, you thought you'd be better off on your own, without back-up or help of any kind, in a world where you're hunted by thousands of fallen angels?” Dean accuses him sharply.

“I just wanted you to be safe,” Castiel mutters. “You and Sam and Kevin. If they find you here-”

Dean shakes his head. “-then we're able to defend ourselves. This is a bunker, Cas, nothing gets in or out of here if we don't want it to.”

For a long minute, Castiel stares at him, and Dean doesn't flinch or look away.

“You are my _friend_ , Cas,” Dean adds emphatically after a while, his voice notably darkened with emotion. “And I'll protect you just as I'd protect my brother. You're family.”

“I know,” Castiel mutters, looking ashamed.

Dean sighs. “And since I haven't seemed to learn my lesson in staying out of danger by now, I don't think I ever will, and I don't care. We're not meant to be living a safe and easy life. We've been through too much for that. But that's the point, you know. We've been through it _together_ , and we've always made it. So don't you dare go pulling a stunt like that again.”

Castiel nods as he stares at his hands in his lap.

Without another word, Dean grabs Castiel's injured arm and pulls it into his lap, cleans, sterilizes and stitches the gush that runs from his elbow down to his wrist.

Castiel clutches Dean's thigh with his hand when he starts stitching and only relaxes after Dean starts to wrap it in gauze. 

When Dean looks up again to meet Castiel's eyes, he has to blink away the wetness.. That was a pretty close call, after all, and Dean has a revelation right then, which Jensen feels all too well in his stomach.

“I care, okay?” Dean says then, and that's not in the script.

Misha blinks for a second or two, but reacts just as quickly. “I thought it was pretty clear that the feeling is mutual.”

“And I don't want you to get hurt for my or Sam's or anyone else's sake. I want you to be safe. As safe as possible, at least. So, I want you here, with me,” Dean states gruffly.

“I understand. And I... I'd rather be with you, too,” Castiel stares at him, eyes pleading for forgiveness and understanding.

“Get some shut-eye, will you?” Dean smiles tightly to ease the tense mood between them. As he gets to his feet, he pats Castiel's leg under the duvet. “Sleep tight.”

“Thank you,” Castiel answers, just as affected by Dean's heartfelt confession.

Dean feels raw and vulnerable and entirely out of his element. Still, it's okay.

It's okay because it's Cas.

***

After Bob gets over the surprise of their performance, he tells them to re-shoot a few close-ups, and he wants to keep Jensen's ad-lib. Altogether, the scene went more than well.

It makes Jensen wonder if he's in on the plan or if he was just surprised at how well it played out on screen. Because, well, to put it mildly, Bob hasn't always been the biggest supporter for Dean and Cas, as in _Dean and Cas together_. Still. There's no way they didn't tell Bob, and the director seems to look at them with different eyes afterwards.

When they wrap up the shoot that day, Jensen and Misha leave together and spend the evening in Misha's trailer. They're both still kind of speechless, too lost in thought and in their character's headspace to make conversation.

But when Jensen looks at Misha, he can see where Dean is coming from.

This is his best friend, whom he's been through a lot with over the past years – heaven, hell, purgatory – who cares about him and always puts his safety before his own. Whom he shared good and bad times with, times when he was alone and lost with nowhere to go and times when they made each other laugh until they had tears in their eyes. There were times when he thought he wouldn't see him ever again and times when he pushed him away.

And then there were times when he's glad that he's around again, times where he wants nothing more than just wrap his arms around him and never let him go again.

“What?” Misha asks, handing him a can of beer.

“Nothing, just-” Jensen accepts it to vaguely gesture at Misha. “Thanks.”

_Just can't say at which point I lost the analogy and ventured into reality there._

***

Misha's directing debut – well, at least the one on Supernatural - goes over as well as everyone expected. Meaning, not at all. It's a filler monster-of-the-week episode and Misha is only in it for a scene in the bunker at the beginning, so at least there's that.

Seeing Misha all collected, organized and knowing exactly what he wants to put on camera and how makes Jensen is deeply impressed and a bit turned on. He was more chaotic that first time he directed. However, Misha answers all the questions asked of him quickly and surely, and the camera guys love him for his clear instructions. Misha is talented, there's no denying it, and Jensen feels really sorry that it's just not working. Well, it would work, had Misha had anyone else to direct other than Jared Padalecki.

Jared screws his scenes up every chance he gets to. Alters his lines into ones that are as suggestive as he can make them or bends Jensen over the next horizontal object they meet. Even Osric is in on the joke and jumps on Jared's back or tries to tickle him or just generally ruins the shot with his laughing.

Jensen is torn between having fun with Jared and Osric and wanting to take it easy on Misha. It's his debut after all, and he kind of really likes the guy and takes pity on him. It's almost too hard to watch him get worked up over Jared's shenanigans.

Turns out Misha isn't as patient when he's on the other side of the camera, and after four days of filming, he reaches a breaking point.

They're already seriously set back in their filming schedule and it's yet another scene that Jared doesn't take seriously. Also, mid-January in Canada isn't the most comfortable time to spend in the woods, especially at two in the morning.

It seems like they'll never get this scene on film, no matter what Misha tries, and Jared is hopped up on too much caffeine and too little sleep. He grimaces off screen and makes Osric crack up and forget his lines; he practically grabs Jensen's balls and tries to kiss him on camera until Jensen can't help but break character, too.

What Jared hasn't noticed, but Jensen is very aware of, is that Misha doesn't smile or shake his head in amusement any more, like he had been doing until this evening. Misha is seriously, dangerously pissed in a way Jensen hasn't seen him often. It's kind of hot and scary.

It takes another half hour of Jared behaving like a five year old, and by that time, Jensen is seriously tired and just wants to get the scene over with. The crew seems the same way, and everyone is running a little low on patience. Everyone except Jared.

That's when Jared turns around during their scene and says straight into the camera, “Hey Misha, why don't you do this scene with Jen? It’s not like anyone will notice in the dark anyway.”

And it doesn't even matter that what he said makes no sense.

Jensen watches with wide eyes as Misha ditches his headphones, stomps around the camera set up and heads straight for Jared. Over the course of four years of filming, Jensen only witnessed a few times when Misha lost his patience. There was shoving, ass-slapping, and some good-natured insults involved, and then they all laughed it off.

This time, though, Jensen jumps back about five feet, because the look in Misha's eyes is downright _murderous_. 

“Okay, Padalecki, listen up,” he growls in a voice that makes the grin on Jared's lips waver. Normally, Jensen knows, Jared would run away laughing, taunting Misha some more. But the way Misha looks at him now fixes him to his mark on the floor. Misha's voice drops another octave as he hisses, “It's two-fucking-thirty in the morning, it's really fucking cold out here and we're already a day behind in our filming schedule. You’re only lucky that I seriously can't stay mad at you for long because right now, I could shoot you to the fucking moon and back, Jared. So get. Your. Fucking. Marbles. Together. And act out this _fucking_ scene seriously or so god help me I'll whup your sorry _ass_.”

With that, he steps back, eyes not leaving Jared's, and Jensen can see how Jared swallows heavily. He doesn't say one word, but when Misha yells “Action!” the next time, he delivers his line without a hitch.

Jensen, though. Jensen is thankful that his lines and coverage are already done, because he stares at Misha for a whole minute after his rant and notices just how hot and bothered it left him. Misha notices, too, of course he does. His eyes meet Jensen's across the set, then skip over the bulge in his jeans, and Misha smirks knowingly.

They don't talk about it.

And Jared behaves for the rest of the shoot. Well, mostly.

***

“Okay, spit it out,” Jared demands a couple of episodes later, when they're well on their way to the season finale build-up.

The script for the finale should arrive sometime next week, and that would explain everything to everybody anyway.

“What?” Jensen sips at his coffee, the picture of innocence.

“You and Misha. Dean and Cas. What's going on there?” Jared sighs and flops down on his chair beside Jensen.

Jensen huffs. “There hasn't been anything going on between Misha and me for almost a year, dude. And really, we're over it.”

“Yeah, right,” Jared nods, as if he doesn't believe a word Jensen says but is too tired to call him out on his bullshit.

Jensen ignores it, because he can't deal with this right now. Dean is confused enough as it is, so Jensen doesn't need his own complicated feelings playing into this romance he’s acting out as well. But the truth is, he and Misha have gotten closer over the shoot, and Jensen blames it on Cas' inability to keep his distance or his hands to himself, as well as Dean being too stunted to man up to his feelings. 

“But Dean and Cas?” Jared challenges.

“They're... I think they’re realizing a few things about themselves lately.” It's as much as Jensen can safely say, because Dean, emotional fucktard that he is, hasn't realized jack squat so far, so nobody else can either.

“No seriously, are they going to... are we really going down that road?”

Jensen takes another gulp of his coffee before he answers. “Yeah, we are. Just wait for the script for the finale.”

“Dude, that's awesome,” Jared grins widely. “I mean, it's... I felt it building all season and thought it was just... I don't know, fanservice. But it felt like a bit much for fanservice, so. And it makes so much sense.”

“Yeah?” Jensen is honestly surprised. Because all he and Misha did was up the ante with Dean's and Cas' usual bickering, making it more suggestive at times, adding subtle undertones to it.

“Yeah, really. Since they started to work out their differences and accepted that they just need each other in their lives, it's been pretty obvious.”

Trust Jared to be that perceptive.

“Sam noticed, too,” Jared winks as he grins some more. “They are not nearly as subtle as they think they are. That jealous fit Dean threw when Cas hooked up with that chick? He was sure that wasn't nearly as much about his fear of ending up at 'The End' as Dean made it out to be.”

Jensen has to laugh at that, too. “Right. That was a pretty obvious clue.”

“Has Dean realized it?”

“Not yet,” Jensen answers, lost in thought.

“Cas?”

“Misha says he has, but he's still unsure of what to do or how to express it.”

Speak of the devil - Misha appears at the other end of the yard, coffee cup in hand as he walks towards them.

For a short second, Jensen is mesmerized by the way Misha walks, his hips swinging softly, his torso framed perfectly by the leather jacket Castiel had claimed early in the season as his own. It fits him more than well, and the plaid shirt underneath is still one of Dean's.

Jensen remembers having worn that shirt a while back, last season, in the Nazi necromancer episode. The possessive streak through his stomach the next second is a surprise, but also understandable – Dean's clothing has been his clothing for a while now, and he's always had a thing for Misha in his shirts. The guy had been known to steal Jensen's boxers back when they were still sleeping with each other. There'd been more than one occasion where Jensen had walked into his kitchen to find Misha only clad in his borrowed boxers, and it had always ended in Jensen dragging him back to bed immediately – well, after pinning him to the kitchen counter, some heavy making out and rutting their hips together.

Jesus, he should not think of these things on set.

Jensen shifts his feet so that Dean's jacket covers his erection and looks up at Misha approaching. He wordlessly takes a seat in his chair beside Jensen's, and Jensen immediately blurts out, “Jared figured it out.”

“ _Sam_ figured it out,” Jared corrects with a grin.

“Yeah? Surprised it took him that long. That jealous fit Dean threw was a pretty good hint,” Misha answers. “And, you know, all the flirting this season.”

Then he winks at Jensen, who quickly avoids Misha's eyes. For some reason, his stomach just... did a thing. Something vaguely reminding him of – no, not thinking about that.

“No, really,” Jared adds then, “You guys did an awesome job with this. And I'm kind of glad that we don't need to dodge those questions at cons anymore.”

Jensen swallows heavily.

***

The script for the finale arrives a week and a half later, and before Misha can even finish it, Jensen appears in his trailer.

“I wasn't done reading yet,” Misha complains.

“Then, by all means, finish it,” Jensen joins him on the couch. Misha's script is still lying open on the table. “I'll just wait.”

He doesn't say a word, just reads through the pages together with him. Usually, Misha hates it when people read over his shoulder, but Jensen always did that. In the morning, with the newspaper, standing behind him with both hands on his bare shoulders, or when Misha checked the news on his computer in the evening. Jensen would always appear behind him, reading over his shoulder.

It's one of the few things only Jensen is allowed to do.

So Misha finishes the script and flips it back to the first page, only to say, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says absentmindedly.

“It works, doesn't it?”

“It does.”

“Wanna do a quick run-through?” Misha asks.

Jensen nods, and they both know which scene they're talking about. The dialogue runs fluently, and they have no problem nailing it on the first try.

What they didn't expect was how emotional they would get, just from the read-through, and how hard it would actually be to not kiss when the script wants them to. Instead, they find themselves sitting on the couch, eyes locked and their lips barely inches apart. Jensen stares into deep blue eyes with little crinkles around them, lets his eyes drop to full, plush lips and licks over his own.

Misha clears his throat and retreats, and Jensen feels something within him break. When he reads the words in the script again, it hurts.

'CASS steps forward and kisses DEAN on the mouth. DEAN is surprised, but returns the kiss.'

***

“This is Abbadon we're talking about here, Cas,” Dean says, one week later, when it's time to film the scene.

“So?” Castiel tips his chin up, challenging Dean as he paces up and down in front of the church. That same church that they tried to cure Crowley in one year ago.

“As in, Abbadon, queen of hell, who has no qualms whatsoever about deep-frying you because she's, well, _the queen of hell_? Who escaped from one of _our_ devil's traps?”

“Someone has to face her.”

“But not like this, it's suicide!” Dean groans and subsequently runs his hand over his eyes, tired of all the stress of the last few weeks. He looks at Cas, pleadingly, wanting him to see how ridiculously dangerous his plan is.

“Dean, I have to.”

“Why would you have to risk your life for this?” Dean spits. “If you didn't notice, there are no angels anymore to bring you back from the dead if you die. Well, there are, but not on our side. And I don't want to rely on God, not this time, punishment resurrection or not.”

“I know. But it's... Dean, it's only fair. I mean, I have to do my part, too, right?”

“What do you mean?” Dean shakes his head in confusion before coming to stand in front of Castiel, stopping him in his tracks.

Castiel looks down at the floor, unable to look Dean in the eye. “I have been nothing but a burden to you ever since I've become human. I'm not of any use any more. I can't help you the way I always could, and I'm-”

“Okay, stop right there Cas. First of all, you've become a damn decent hunter since you've become human. Okay? And it's not about being useful or not, for Christ's sake. You're-- you're not a tool or something like that. You're my friend, period. And you're still Cas, angel or not. You were the one who rescued me from hell. You are _not_ worthless.”

Dean's panting at this point, enraged and deeply wounded. Standing in front of him Castiel looks ashamed and mildly confused himself.

“Dean, I-”

Dean waves him off, interrupting him. “So if we're gonna do this, we're doing it _together_.”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel says, and that one word has always been able to carry so much emotion. Disbelief, wonder, surprise and most of all, _affection_.

For a long moment, they watch each other, and Dean practically melts at Castiel's forlorn look. He smiles, suddenly, because well... this is it, isn't it? Castiel is it. They've been through so much together, and they'd get through all of it again, as long as they just had each other.

The realization is mind-boggling, cuts deep into Dean's bones, until his heart races and he feels like it'll burst in his chest. Which doesn't mean that he has any ideawhat to do about it, but luckily, Castiel decides that for him.

Castiel closes the gap between them and wraps his hand around Dean's neck without hesitation, pulling him down for a kiss. It's gentle and soft and still new, and Dean raises his eyebrows for a split second before he tilts his head for better access to kiss Castiel back. It's the whole fireworks-behind-your-eyes, life-changing revelation experience, and Jensen gasps for air when they shift the angle of the kiss for the camera.

When they break apart, they stare at each other in wonder, and Jensen honestly can't draw the line between himself and Dean any more. He looks at Misha the way Dean looks at Cas – pleasantly baffled, swept off his feet, and so very in love.

_Fuck._

They both sigh, close their eyes, and lean their foreheads against one another's.

It's been a year since he last kissed Misha. And yet he still knows how Misha likes to be kissed and how his lips feel.

They have to shoot the scene five more times. By the last take, Jensen could care less about how it looks to the crew. Most of them knew about him and Misha back in the day anyway. He doesn't hold back any more, not when it's been so long and kissing Misha just feels so good, so he shamelessly takes advantage of the scene.

Misha isn't any better either, and he doesn't hide it in the least.

After Castiel's “ _Dean_ ,” and the stare of realization, they fall into each other, Misha's hand clutching Jensen's neck, Jensen's hand fisted into Misha's jacket, pulling him closer, just closer, hands grabbing for purchase wherever they end up. The kiss becomes desperate and hard and definitely goes on longer than it should. There might also be some tongue involved. It's glorious, it's like having spent forty days in the desert and being handed a bottle of water straight out of the fridge, and Jensen savors every split second of it. He nips at Misha's lips, sucks the full, soft bottom lip between his, presses his mouth hard onto Misha's as their scruff rasps against each other's.

God, he has missed this.

And when they come up for air this time, they still grab and hold onto each other, heads leaned together, and Phil Sgriccia claps his hands and says, “Now _that's_ what I wanted to see. Well done, guys. We'll print that.”

Misha's eyes are closed, his breath ragged and his lips spit-slick and kiss-swollen.

Jensen has to pry his hands off of him in order not to shove him into the next horizontal or vertical surface and fuck him stupid. 

Or, scratch that, to kiss him until they're both coming in their pants.

***

So he's kind of, maybe in love with Misha, and it took him four goddamn years to get to that revelation. Four years he could've spent a hell of a lot differently, but well, water under the bridge.

Jensen is almost relieved that the shoot for the finale is over two days after that. Misha's company is distracting, disorienting; it makes Jensen question things he thought he wouldn't ever question again. He's still not sure if it's the shadows of the past haunting him, or if there's legitimately something there worth saving. For all he knows, the fact that Misha is smiling more, especially around him these days, might all just be in his head.

When Jensen looks at Misha now, he doesn't see the guy from two seasons ago. The guy he fucked on a regular basis because it was convenient and they both enjoyed it. The guy who could make him come without even trying. The guy he possibly had the best sex of his entire life with.

No.

He sees Misha, funny and goofy and snarky as ever, with sparkling blue eyes and a charming smile that only gets wider whenever it's directed at Jensen. Every time that happens, he feels his stomach turning and his heart clenching painfully. His hands itch to be wrapped around Misha's middle, wanting to pull him into a bone-crushing hug.

However, that's not what Jensen deserves, not after giving away the only chance he had at this.

And it makes all the uncomfortable questions well up, questions he had buried long ago. Questions like whether or not a phone call might have saved their relationship back in season seven. Questions like whether or not admitting to wanting more than just sex could have saved them. Questions like, would they be happy now instead of tiptoeing around each other?

Jensen tries to shake it off and fails.

The wrap party is the usual madness, and he even lets Jeremy convince him to sing on stage. He'd give anything to not have to face Misha at this point, because it hurts to be around him.

It's been so long, and Jensen is an idiot.

He doesn't deserve a second chance, not when he messed it up so spectacularly the first time around. Well, they both did, but that's not the point.

The point is that Misha still seeks his presence and it's kind of scary. He shows up with a glass of champagne when Jensen decided he really doesn't need one anymore, and his smile is too warm and too heartfelt. Jensen is feeling dizzy, and surely not from the two glasses of champagne he’s already had.

The point is that they agreed to be friends, and they're good as friends, and he doesn't want to ruin that _again._

***

“Hey, man. What's up?” Jared asks as Misha joins him on the balcony outside the hall where the wrap party takes place.

Misha turns around and leans against the railing beside Jared. He can spot Genevieve in there, a flute glass between her fingers as she cranes her neck talking to Jensen, despite her killer heels. He looks way too serious, even with her obvious attempts to cheer him up.

“Everything that's not tied to the ground,” Misha deadpans before he looks up at Jared.

“Ha-ha,” Jared answers and rolls his eyes. His gaze becomes abruptly stern after that. “Seriously though, you're not fooling anyone, Collins. Spit it out.”

Misha spins his glass of champagne in his hands and ponders. It's not like Jared doesn't know their story, it's not like he hasn't witnessed it almost from the beginning, so it's pretty useless to pretend this isn't about Jensen. Misha sighs in defeat.

“It's about you and grumpyface in there, isn't it?” Jared nods towards the hall.

“Yes, it is,” Misha sighs again, then huffs. “He's-- I don't even know what he is right now. Confused. Difficult. A dick.”

“He's a stubborn bastard, is what he is,” Jared throws in. “Although the dick part is not far cry from that.”

“Yeah. Also, don't get me started on his dick.”

Jared rolls his eyes again and takes a sip from his own drink, giving them a few seconds in silence.

“I could say give him some time, he'll come around, but that's what I'd have said all throughout the past four years,” Jared admits, then, with a sad look at Misha. For all his goofiness, the guy can be a damn good friend when you need one.

Misha smiles, half rueful and half grateful. “He hasn't talked to me since the shoot of the finale. Since the kiss.”

Jared snorts. “Yeah, I know. He hasn't talked to me about it either.”

“What do you think? Sometimes I've got the feeling that I don't know him at all, despite...” Misha trails off, lets the sentence remain unfinished, leaving the suggestion Jared knows very well unexplained.

“I think he's thinking too much,” Jared shrugs. “That, and he's scared.”

Misha breaks out into a harsh, bitter laugh. “The lamest, oldest excuse known to man.”

“I know. But it's how it is, believe me. He's scared of messing this up again, just like the first time. He thinks he doesn't deserve this, deserve _you_ , because he's a giant pain in the ass.”

Trying to ease the tense situation, Misha cackles and says, “He's a lot of things in the ass but not-”

“ _Misha,_ ” Jared interrupts him with an exasperated glare. “There's things I don't want to know about my best friend.”

“Yeah, yeah, big guy.”

“I'm serious, though.”

Misha sighs. He does that a lot these days. “I know.”

For a long moment, Jared just stands beside him, a forlorn look in his eyes. Then he clears his throat. “I saw the dailies of your kiss, you know.”

“And?” Misha swallows, his eyes tracking back to where Gen talks to Jensen. At least he seems a bit more at ease now in her company. Jared probably put her up to distract Jensen.

“That last one,” Jared starts, taking a deep breath, and Misha already knows what's coming next and dreads it, “Do you seriously think that was still all about Dean and Cas? _That_ kiss?”

Misha shrugs.

Jared shakes his head in disbelief. “Okay, then here's another hint: he's miserable, you're miserable. What do we learn from that?” he asks softly.

“I need to get over my stupid crush and find my way back to earth?”

Surprise and despair and deep sympathy shine in Jared's eyes when he nudges his elbow into Misha's side. “What the hell happened to you, dude? If he's that much of an asshole to you, I'll be the first in line to punch him in the face.”

Misha just gives a noncommital grunt.

“Why aren't you fighting for him?” Jared asks, both challenging and careful.

“I want to fight. But he doesn't really give me a chance to, now does he?”

“He's a shithead.”

“He's your best friend.”

“Yeah, and that's why I get to call him a shithead if he makes both you and himself miserable,” Jared states in a heated voice. “Misha, do whatever it takes. Get angry. Tell him. For fuck's sake, get a hotel room and cover the bed in rose petals and confess your eternal love for him, if that's what it takes.”

Misha chuckles at the mental picture, genuinely amused. “Jen would laugh his ass off.” And yeah, thinking about that laugh, about Jensen throwing his head back and guffawing out that beautiful pearly laughter, rough around the edges but so soft when it fades out – that's something that doesn't leave Misha's head easily.

When he looks back up, Jared is watching him with a fond expression. “You're pretty gone on him, aren't you?”

“You have no idea,” Misha shakes his head, and that hint of bitterness is back. He can't help it.

But yeah, he can't deny that Jared is right. He needs to fight for Jensen if he wants him, because that guy has his head so far in the sand that he won't realize it otherwise. Misha knows Jensen is worth fighting for. He just hopes that Jensen lets him.

When Misha turns to look at where Genevieve and Jensen were talking not a few minutes earlier, the spot is empty.

“Go find him. I don't think you'll regret it,” Jared smiles.

“Thanks,” Misha answers quietly.

***

When Jensen gets home, he has a text from Misha waiting on his phone.

_'Where are you? Want to talk, waiting on the balcony.'_

He punches the wall and feels like an asshole for ignoring the text.

Mostly, though, he feels like a coward.

Because he couldn't take it if Misha tells him that their chemistry on screen and the kissing and whatnot is fine, but they shouldn't try again to avoid mistakes of the past. He must have noticed how so not between Dean and Castiel that last kiss was, and it surely hasn't been hard to figure the bigger picture out from there.

Of course, there's a fifty-fifty chance that Misha might tell him the complete opposite, but Jensen doesn't dare hope.

They've worked so hard to get to this truce. It was difficult and awkward and not pleasant, and Jensen doesn't want to go through this again. Not when Dean and Castiel are supposed to have a relationship in season ten, which will fuck enough with his head as it is.

It's two weeks until they'll all fly out to Rome for JIBcon.

Jensen spends them in his house in L.A., working out too much to get his mind off things. When that ultimately turns out to be a flop, he drops onto his couch and reaches for his phone, scrolling down to Misha's contact entry.

He doesn't call.

***

Rome is what Rome always is: madness of the most enjoyable kind.

The fans in Italy couldn't be more different from the ones in the US, and it's a welcome change. There are a lot of people that travel from far away, from Germany and Spain and God knows where else. And yet, they are so appreciative of every second they spend down there that it's simply a joy to be around them.

There's also the annual dinner with too much wine involved.

Jensen is for once thankful that he can cling to Jared and disappear behind him if need be.

However, Misha seems almost offended by the end of the night, and Jensen feels bad for it.

Really, he does, because he totally knows why he seemed offended.

“Dude, what the hell? First the seat thing on the flight, now this?” Jared asks him on their way back to the hotel, when they're all pleasantly buzzed on delicious Italian wine.

Jensen kind of insisted on sitting at the window and made Jared switch seats with him last-minute. Which he never does, because he usually prefers sitting on the aisle. Jared gave him the side-eye with an almost apologetic look at Misha across said aisle, but being the saint that he is, he had given in and let Jensen sit as far away from Misha as possible.

But a drunk Jared is also a very straightforward, takes-no-bullshit-especially-from-his-best-friend Jared.

“What? It’s nothing,” Jensen dismisses him, despite knowing better.

“You ignoring Misha all through a ten-hour flight _and_ dinner? No, that's something. Is it because of the finale? What the hell is the matter with you two?”

Jensen groans, but before he gets to answer, Jared stops him with one hand on his elbow, waiting until they're far enough behind the rest of the group.

“Okay, I'm only gonna say this once Jensen. You hurt him, and if you don't see that, you don't deserve him. Go apologize and fix this, or so help me.”

“And who says he wants to fix it at all?” Jensen mumbles meekly, unable to meet Jared's eyes.

“Maybe the fact that he hasn't been himself all evening is a clue? Jesus, don't you see it? I haven't seen Misha that quiet ever,” Jared shakes his head in disbelief and runs his hands through his hair. “Didn't he said anything to you? After the wrap party?”

“He texted me that he was waiting outside on the balcony, but I was already home by the time I read the message.”

“And you didn't bother calling back? That was _two weeks ago_ , Jensen,” Jared snaps.

Jensen shakes his head no as he feels his throat clogging up. He blames the wine.

“What did you even do those last two weeks? Sulk in L.A.?”

“Pretty much,” Jensen huffs with a shrug.

“So, I give Misha a piece of my mind at the wrap party, only to have you blow him off,” Jared sums up in disbelief. “No wonder he's hurt now, the ball is in your court.”

“You did _what_?”

“He's miserable, Jen, ever since the finale, and you two... you definitely need to talk.”

Jensen looks at the pavement underneath his feet, plays with a small pebble next to his shoe. “It's not that easy.”

“Why?”

“Because I don't just want to fix... the friendship or what we had before. It's that...” Jensen shakes his head as he trails off, unable to finish the sentence.

“There's more.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me.”

Jensen looks up at his best friend then, to find him watching him with sorrow filled eyes and a furrow between his eyebrows.

“I'm in love with him?” Jensen manages to cough, because he was never able to lie to Jared. “And it's kind of really scary, because I don't want to ruin our friendship. Not again.”

“Dude, if you keep behaving like this, you'll definitely ruin it. So maybe think twice about not telling him.”

With that sharp comment, Jared leavess him standing on the side of the road in Rome. After a few seconds, Jensen follows him towards their hotel, but they're quiet for the rest of the way. They don't talk until they bid each other good night.

That night, Jensen can't fall asleep for a long time. Instead, he stares at the ceiling of his hotel room and wishes that he had a familiar body curled around his own.

***

Jensen got up on the wrong side of bed this morning, that's for sure. He's not in the mood for a day filled with panels and Q&As, but nobody’s asked him how he feels. They are in Rome, after all, and this is one of their most popular conventions.

So Jensen plasters on his game-face and goes down to breakfast at a time where he knows he'll be alone. He's usually not an early riser, but he can't stand anyone right now.

Unfortunately, Ty seems to have slept just as lighty as Jensen, and he flops down opposite him without asking.

Not that Jensen minds, because Ty looks hungover as fuck. Deep circles underline his eyes and he’s wearing yesterday's clothes, which he obviously slept in. The picture he makes gets at least an amused chuckle out of Jensen. “Aren't you looking peachy.”

“Oh, fuck you, Ackles,” Ty answers, but there's a grin tugging at his lips and no heat behind the words.

Jensen smirks and slathers his croissant in jam, because that's the kind of breakfast you get in Italy, and sometimes Jensen likes his sweets in the morning.

Ty nibbles on a dry piece of toast before he empties two glasses of orange juice and a cup of coffee with lots of sugar. Then he goes to fetch himself another cup.

“Dude,” Jensen grins.

“Just because you have an inhuman resistance to wine doesn't mean I do,” Ty points at him, then goes to bite off another mouthful of toast. “Anyway, why are you up so early?”

Jensen shrugs. “Couldn't sleep.”

“U-huh,” Ty winks suggestively.

“Not that kind of _couldn't sleep,_ ” Jensen groans.

“Right, I almost forgot,” Ty deadpans. “You and Misha aren't talking.”

Jensen stops his complacent chewing on his croissant and swallows heavily. “Not you, too.”

“Damn right, me too, because I have eyes, you know. But don't worry, I won't say anything more. My head hurts enough as it is.”

“Thank god,” Jensen groans.

“Just... Don't let him be the one that got away,” Ty says with as much seriousness as he can possibly manage in the state he's in. “Now if you excuse me, I have three more hours to sleep until my first panel.”

“After all that coffee?” Jensen asks, purposefully avoiding the topic.

“If you can be resistant to wine, I can be resistant to coffee,” Ty says with a lopsided smile, and leaves Jensen to stew some more in his own juices.

Well, maybe, they have a point. He just needs to man up, which almost makes him sick to his stomach with nervousness.

***

Misha doesn't get buck fever before a panel. Not after years of doing this, not after having faced more than a couple of incredibly weird questions. He's a veteran, and his field-tested stage persona is clear evidence of that.

But not even crashing Jensen's panel sometime mid-afternoon is able to take off the edge today.

It's Sunday, their last convention day, and that means he and Jensen's panel will be the last one of the day, the last of the whole convention. It's one of the highest attended panels and a fan favorite, and everybody knows why. Because he and Jensen work so effortlessly together, because Jensen is the only person able to cut through his stage persona.

And thinking back to last year, with all the dancing and the jokes and how everyone had a blast makes Misha melancholic. This year, with Jensen practically not looking at him ever since they said hello at LAX, he has no idea how to get through that hour.

It doesn't feel right. Nothing feels right these days.

Misha sighs and closes his eyes, trying to collect his thoughts. He feels stupidly pathetic, depending on someone else's attention like that.

That's when Jensen appears beside him in the green room and throws all of Misha's good intentions out the window with his usual, charming smile. And not the one for the fans that he mostly reserves for photo OPs, either. His real, heartfelt smile that Misha knows all too well. The smile that makes Misha mushy inside.

He's not ashamed to say that he almost feels like crying. Something happened with Jensen, and Misha feels it, and it makes a stupid, familiar hope rise up within him.

“Hey,” Jensen greets him, his voice low and gentle and throwing Misha off balance even more.

“Hey yourself,” Misha answers, still surprised by Jensen's drastic change in attitude.

Jensen's eyes are way too green when he says, not without the appropriate dose of discomfort, “Listen, I'm... can we talk after this is all over? It's just... I'm sorry. For being a coward and ignoring you.”

Misha swallows and accepts the apology with a nod, overwhelmed to finally hears those words from Jensen. “I'm sorry, too,” he admits.

“And I'm tired of running,” Jensen adds on the exhale. “So let's do this, alright?”

For a second, Misha squints. Because he could've sworn that Jensen didn't mean the panel with 'let's do this', at least judging by his open smile. _This_ , as in _them, together_? Surely, Jensen must be aware of all that's left hanging between them. That Misha is in love with him is more than obvious, and even if Jensen tends to be oblivious to the little hints on the best of days, the way their relationship suffered over the past weeks should've been telling enough.

Misha doesn't get to answer, because Jensen is called on stage then, and he follows not half a minute later.

***

Half an hour later, Misha finds himself sitting on his bar stool with a permanent smile so wide that it already hurts.

The panel, so far, has been awesome.

If last year was subtle – it wasn't – then this year is blatant flirting. Jensen jokes, the blinding grin on his face so contagious that Misha can't help himself, either. It's everything he's wanted for weeks now, that familiar easiness returning to their friendship. He's more than elated; in fact, it feels a damn lot more like being high. His stomach seems to be filled with butterflies, and as clichéd as that sounds, there's no other way to put it. Misha feels like a hormone-driven teenager all over again.

Jensen's gazes tend to linger on him when he tries to answer a question seriously before Jensen messes it up anyway, much to everyone's enjoyment. It's not uncomfortable, and Misha finds himself watching Jensen even more than usual. Takes in the freckles and laugh lines around his sparkling green eyes and his full lips, and the way he curls his foot around the chair leg, which is just adorable.

Yeah, there's no doubt that he is head over heels in love with this man.

There's no crazy dancing to 'Singing in the Rain' this time, but there's a girl with Jared's résumé, which turns out to be comedic gold. Misha laughs so hard that tears roll down his cheeks as Jensen lists off Jared's skills and comments on each. By the time Jensen's finished, he’s standing in front of Misha and, without any apparent second thought, wipes a tear off Misha's face.

“Aw, don't cry, baby,” he says teasingly into the microphone, and the crowd practically goes rabid.

After the cheering and aaw'ing and whooping calms down and they rip apart some more of Jared's résumé, it's almost time to leave the stage.

“Alright, we have time for one more question,” Jensen announces with a look at Daniela on the sidelines, to the crowd's loudly voiced disappointment.

That's when a deep, manly voice that definitely doesn't belong to one of the fangirls says, “Hey guys! I have a question for Jensen.”

Misha quickly looks over to the row of girls standing in line for the mike recognizing none other than Rob Benedict.

“Ah, hello there,” Jensen grins. “Where have I seen you before? You look familiar.”

Rob laughs, “I think we’ve crossed paths once or twice.”

Then he pulls out a guitar from behind his back. The room is too dark for Misha to have recognized it earlier, but it's a classic western guitar.

“I wanted to ask Jensen if he would play this,” Rob adds.

The girls and the few guys in the room are almost yelling themselves hoarse in support, some shouting song titles or names of artists towards the stage.

“You all know that I usually don't do this,” Jensen warns, but Misha can see right through his act of playing coy.

“C'mon, Jensen,” Misha teases with an encouraging smile. “Play a song for me?”

Jensen looks at him for a long while, and as their eyes lock, the cheers of the crowd fade into the background. After what was probably only a few seconds, but seemed like a lot more to Misha, Jensen blinks.

“Okay, then,” he says and drops his mike onto the bar stool, heading off stage to pick up the guitar from Rob.

As soon as he's back, one of the stage hands is setting up the mike stand for the guitar, and one for Jensen to sing into.

Misha's heart jumps to a pace that can't possibly be healthy, because Jensen with a guitar has always been a turn-on for him. Back in Vancouver, Misha had caught him once or twice, singing with his guitar in his hands. They had always ended up in bed not five minutes later.

After having checked that the guitar is tuned right, Jensen announces, “You guys know the drill, right? If I mess up horribly, don't hate me.”

The last sentence is spoken mostly towards Misha, and it makes his heart pound impossibly loud and hard for a completely different reason.

Jensen starts to strum the guitar, falls into singing a few chords in, and it doesn't take Misha long to recognize the song he's playing. Sure, the song is usually played on a piano, but the soft melody is one he's heard a few times over the past weeks. Not because he was sulking and pining at home and it's a song about lost chances, not at all.

It's Bruno Mars,[ 'When I Was Your Man'.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jgkiXER1bpk)

Oh, Jensen is playing a song for him alright.

And Misha would be lying if he said he isn't melting at Jensen's singing. It's not something Jensen does often, especially not in public; doing it, so outright and openly, for him, is _huge._

He's frozen. Completely and utterly frozen as he looks at Jensen, who sings this cheesy pop song from the heart, with an undeniable begging undertone.

His voice rises with the song, slowly but surely, until the bridge.

Where Jensen plays the guitar quieter, lets it blend into the background, carrying the tune with his voice alone, and alters the text. It seems like the whole room is holding its breath, and Misha has goose bumps when the words echo through the auditorium.

_I hope to buy you flowers_  
 _I hope to hold your hand_  
 _I'll give you all my hours_  
 _If you give me the chance_  
 _To be the one at your side_  
 _Wherever we decide to go_  
 _Do all the things I should've done_  
 _A long time ago._

The yells and cheers of the crowd are once again drowned out as Misha stares at Jensen, speechless.

A lot of people could tell you that making Misha Collins speechless is hard to achieve, and only Jensen has achieved it more than once over the course of time they’d known each other.

Jensen looks at him hopefully as he puts the guitar aside, waiting for his reaction. The look in his eyes says it all, Jensen's feelings lay out in the open, take them or leave them.

Misha puts his own mike down so it doesn't pick up what he's saying, and Jensen does the same with his two microphones, turning them away.

“Really?” he whispers, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Jensen basically just confessed his love and apologized with a song played in front of a room full of hundreds of fans.

Jensen nods, his face the epitome of seriousness, his eyes pleading, and a blush reddening his cheeks.

“Here?” Misha adds breathlessly, and this time, a mischievous grin spreads on Jensen's lips as he nods again.

Jumping to his feet, Misha takes the one step that separates him from Jensen. And just like Castiel had done with Dean two weeks ago, Misha wraps his hand around Jensen's neck and kisses him. Right there, for everyone to see, and the frenzy of flashing cameras that follows after a short gasp that rises collectively in the room documents it for the rest of the world.

Misha couldn't care less, though. He's too busy kissing the man he loves, grinning like the Cheshire cat when they come up for air and bursting into laughter because he needs to release all the happiness somehow. 

“Kelly is going to hate me,” Jensen chuckles in amusement, his hand curled around Misha's wrist and not letting go anytime soon.

“Your publicist will get over it,” Misha reassures him solemnly. “Plus, that was totally worth it.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Special thanks:**  
> 
> [labluekatt1721](http://labluekatt1721.livejournal.com/): Thank you, my wonderful artist, for all the cute banners and the extra dividers you made for me and my little story!
> 
> [blow_me_cas](http://blow-me-cas.livejournal.com/): Also a big thank you to my lovely beta Lauren, who was an absolute joy to work with! Thanks for all the hard work you put into this, the story certainly needed it!
> 
> [caswouldratherbehere](http://caswouldratherbehere.tumblr.com/): Kelly, for reading this thing before everyone else and giving me quite a lot ideas of what I could add to it. Thank you so much!
> 
> And, obviously, to the mods of the [deancasbigbang](http://deancasbigbang.livejournal.com/) for running this great challenge!


End file.
